


Lifeline

by chensuu



Category: Emergency!
Genre: Angst, Attempted Sexual Assault, Caretaking, Friendship, Gen, Protectiveness, Violence, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-11 19:35:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 61,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12942219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chensuu/pseuds/chensuu
Summary: When Johnny and Roy are threatened by a ghost from the past they must rely upon their friendship to pull each other through.





	Lifeline

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for season 2 episode Trainee. Spoilers up to and including Season 4.
> 
> Apologies in advance for any medical errors.
> 
> **** EDITED TO CORRECT FORMATTING. ****
> 
>  
> 
> Copyright 2018

Lifeline

The little girl lay on the carpet fighting to breathe. The fear etched onto her face made it impossible for Paramedic Roy Desoto to look away for even a second. He thought of his own children and his pulse quickened.

“Johnny?”

The child was gasping and struggling to get up, kicking her thin legs and staring wildly about. Her wispy fingers sailed through the dark hair of his partner John Gage, gripping weakly at his shoulder and skimming down along his arm, looking for support amid the maelstrom. He held her hand briefly and smiled before settling her back down upon the floor. 

“Roy, she’s having trouble.”

The girl’s mother was staring at the medical equipment spread out across the floor of their small one story suburban home. Usually Roy felt sympathy for the parent where a child was involved, but now he suspected that Mrs. Cooper wasn’t being completely truthful with him and that her dishonesty might end up costing them her young daughter's life. His gut instinct told him that she was lying. 

“Mrs. Cooper, how long has your daughter been like this?” Roy stood with his hands on his hips trying to make some sense of the wide-eyed woman who seemed more interested in the procedures the paramedics were enacting to save her child’s life than she was with her own child’s suffering.  


Rampart wanted information from him and right now he didn’t have very much to offer.

“Are you speaking with the hospital?” She pointed to the bio-phone and patted down her hair, “To a doctor? Can they hear us?” She touched Johnny’s back and he politely shrugged her off. 

“Yes, we are. Now please Mrs. Cooper, how long has your daughter had trouble breathing?” Roy tried again.

“Just for a little while now. It started earlier tonight.” She looked at her daughter and shook her head. “She’s pale, isn’t she?”

The situation was strange. The child was sick and fighting to breathe and the mother was composed and oddly excited. It didn’t bode well for a successful outcome. “Did you give your daughter any medicine today? Did she eat anything out of the ordinary? Anything she doesn't normally eat?”

Johnny’s long body twisted over the girl checking her airway and blocking the mother’s view. “Roy, I think there’s something in here but I can’t get at it.” The wheezing sound the girl made was unnerving. “Her breathing is laborious.” He positioned the child flat on the floor and tilted back her head.

“Are you going to treat her?” the woman grabbed Johnny’s arm. “She’s obviously sick!” 

Johnny shook his arm free. He kept his voice gentle but firm. “Ma’am, I need room to work on her. We are trying to treat her. Now please talk to my partner.”

Roy’s mind registered that the woman hadn’t used ‘save her’ or ‘help her’ but instead had said ‘treat her’ when inquiring about the girl’s condition. He filed it away for later. “I need some information from you now Mrs. Cooper. It can’t wait.”

_“What’s the delay 51?”_

Joe Early sounded confused. Roy paused and turned away from the woman, “Rampart the child is still breathing with difficulty. We suspect an object or objects partially blocking her airway.”

“BP is now 135 over 90,” Johnny announced. Roy repeated the information back to the hospital.

_“51 find out if the child was given any medication today.”_

“Rampart we are still waiting on that information.” Roy rubbed his hand over his face. He was usually a very patient guy but this rescue was pushing his limits. “Mrs. Cooper, please. One more time. Did you give your daughter any medications at all today?”

“I didn’t give her anything.” Mrs. Cooper spoke earnestly but Roy didn’t buy it. 

“Nothing at all? Are you sure? Can she reach inside your medicine cabinet?”

Mrs. Cooper suddenly looked stricken. “No, she can’t. And you keep out of my medicine cabinet.” She paused and seemed to reconsider her reply, “I remember I gave her baby aspirin, two tablets, earlier.” 

“Only baby aspirin?” Johnny interrupted. He looked doubtful. “Are you sure?” He raised his eyebrows warily and continued treating the child. 

“Baby aspirin wouldn’t cause this type of reaction. Did you give her something stronger? Did she eat anything recently?” Roy asked. When the woman shook her head no he related the information to Rampart. 

“Rampart the mother says she gave the child two baby aspirin approximately two hours a go.” He met Johnny’s eyes, watched him shake his head no.

_“51 start an IV Dextrose .5 mg TKO” and transport the child as soon as possible.”_

“Affirmative Rampart, Dextrose IV .5 mg TKO,” Roy repeated. 

Johnny ripped open the bag with his teeth and inserted the IV line. The woman seemed fascinated by the entire procedure. 

“Penny’s always sick. And she doesn’t listen to me. She’s always getting into things that she shouldn’t.” The woman smiled, almost proud. “Some time it seems like she’s been sick since she was born. I’ve had her to a few doctors.”

“She was sick before? Like this? When?” Roy asked quickly but the woman didn’t reply.

Johnny knelt over the girl and tilted her head back again checking for obstructions. The child’s fingers were still moving but slower than before. 

Penny was six years old but her build was that of a much smaller child. Roy didn’t like judging a book by its cover but the mother’s reactions were off somehow. She was too calm and it bothered him. The frantic worry that usually accompanied a parent’s reactions whenever a small child was sick or injured was missing. 

Mrs. Cooper was definitely hiding something. 

Roy jumped when he heard a loud noise coming from another part of the house. It sounded like a pot dropping on the floor or a toilet bowl lid being slammed. He moved forward to check it out but the woman’s hand on his arm held him back. “Is there someone else in here who might be able to help us? Someone who knows what’s going on?”

“No.”

“I heard someone.”

“That’s my cat,” The woman looked down the hallway, “There’s no one else here.”

“But I heard…”

“You heard the cat.”

He was about to argue with the woman when a movement from the dark hallway caught his eye. A large tabby scampered out from a back room and ran into the kitchen hissing. Roy rubbed his eyes. When he looked up the woman was staring at him.

“I told you.”

Roy ignored her and kept his voice firm, almost demanding. “Let me see the bottle for the baby aspirin.” They didn’t have any more time to waste. “Now, please.”

“I don’t have it anymore. I threw it out yesterday.” 

“You threw the bottle out yesterday and gave her the aspirin today?” Roy hated sounding like a bully but Mrs. Cooper wasn’t making any sense. “I need you to be honest with me. If you want your daughter to survive you’ll tell me the truth.”

The woman stared at him with an expression of awe. She started laughing then, a thin, bitter laugh that contorted her delicate features into something dark, something unknowable. She backed away in a flash and ran out of the room, “It was just baby aspirin!”

Roy glanced at Johnny and took off after her. He found Mrs. Cooper sitting on the kitchen floor, digging through the trash can. Roy heard the ambulance and police siren in the background and felt a surge of relief. 

Then Johnny called his name and Roy stepped back into the living room. 

“Roy! She stopped breathing!” He watched Johnny lean forward and begin mouth to mouth. 

********************************************

“Mr. Gregor, I know that you’re upset but you need to calm down. It’s gonna be alright. It’s gonna be just fine.” Johnny smiled his best reassuring grin at the heaving man lying with his body half in and half out of the lowest part of the in-ground swimming pool in the small overgrown back yard. It looked like the lawn hadn’t been mowed or weeded in months. “Let’s get you out of here, okay?”

He bent down to wrap his arms around the man’s chest and found himself pushed back into the damp grass with surprising force.

“Don’t you touch me.” Mr. Gregor struggled out of the pool. “I can get out of the water by myself, thank you very much.”

His patient was not a happy camper. 

Gregor's rather limited blonde hair was plastered against the top of his head giving him the appearance of a drowned animal and his pinched face was set in a nasty scowl. The more Johnny tried to encourage him, the more closed off Gregor became. 

“Just relax Mr. Gregor.” Johnny brightened his tone and did his best to sound reasonable, “With your hands folded across your chest like that I can’t take your pulse.” He gently nudged at Gregor’s crossed arms. 

“I don’t appreciate being patronized by a fireman!” Gregor huffed and slapped Johnny’s hand away. “I can’t move this arm you idiot. It’s atrophied.”

“Atrophied? What happened?” Johnny noticed for the first time that Gregor’s left arm was bent at an awkward angle. He kept it tucked under his dominant right arm making it difficult to see.

“What happened? What do you mean what happened? The god damn war happened! Some Marcus Welby wannabe couldn't keep his hands to himself.” Gregor sputtered. “But my arm isn’t the issue here, is it?” 

“Sir, your wife found you in the shallow part of the pool with your head underwater. You’re lucky she had the foresight to drag you out. She said you didn’t respond to her at first. She didn’t think you were breathing.” 

“What the hell does she know?” Gregor interrupted him. “Or you for that matter.” He folded his arms tighter and assumed a superior tone. “I’m breathing now, right?”

Johnny looked to his partner for some help but Roy’s attention at the moment was occupied by Mrs. Gregor and her wildly flailing arms. The woman seemed to be in a perpetual state of motion. He turned back to his patient. “You sure are Mr. Gregor.”

“At least you can figure out that much.” Gregor snarled at him and Johnny did a slow count to five.

“I just wanna check you out and make sure that you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. And regardless, you probably couldn’t help me anyway.”

“Look, if you let me check you out and transport you to the hospital then you can be absolutely certain of that.” He moved forward with the blood pressure cuff. “I’m just gonna take your BP.”

“Get that damn thing away from me!” Mr. Gregor pushed Johnny’s hand away for the second time.

“Mr. Gregor, please.” Johnny knew he sounded exasperated but Mr. Gregor’s defiance was making his head spin. 

_“51 do you have that blood pressure yet?”_

Morton’s voice over the bio-phone sounded just as frustrated as Johnny felt. 

“Negative Rampart I’m still working on it. Be advised the patient’s left arm is atrophied from nerve damage sustained in a war accident.” He noticed Roy look up curiously at that comment. Johnny raised his eyebrows and shrugged. 

_“Okay 51. I’ll stand by until you can get what I need to advise you and help your patient.”_

Johnny bristled but kept his temper in check. Even after nearly four years of working together Morton still had the ability to rub him the wrong way. “10-4 Rampart, you’ll have them as soon as possible.” He rubbed his face and tried again. “That was the doctor at Rampart Hospital. He needs vital signs to help with your diagnosis and treatment.”

“I don’t need a doctor’s diagnosis.”

“Mr. Gregor, you called us. We didn’t just pick your name randomly out of the phone book and drive the Squad to your house.” He glanced at Roy trying to get his partner’s attention but it was no use. Mrs. Gregor was still shouting, grabbing at him and infringing on his personal space to such a degree that despite the trouble he was having, Johnny was relieved he’d started with the husband. “It’s your right to refuse medical treatment but it just doesn’t make sense for you to do that if there’s a problem.”

“Don’t tell me I called you, you idiot! I didn’t call you. And if the doctors can’t help then you certainly can’t. Paramedics are a waste of county money!” 

Roy shook his head at the outburst. Johnny caught his wry expression and frowned. 

“I need you to calm down Mr. Gregor.” Johnny licked his lips. “Please.”

“Just get the hell off my patio and take your equipment and your attitude….” Gregor grabbed his chest. “Your attitude…” Suddenly he looked alarmed, “Oh my god!” He turned to Johnny in amazement. “What the hell was that?”

“Can you tell me where it hurts?” Johnny moved closer, ready to act.

“Jesus! Don’t just sit there with your mouth open like a hyena. Do something!” He grabbed his chest again and fell silent. 

Johnny touched his patient’s chest. “He’s not breathing!” He moved into position and began mouth to mouth for the second time in as many runs since daybreak. 

Roy suddenly appeared at his side and picked up the line to the hospital. “Rampart the patient is not breathing. We are beginning emergency procedures.” 

In and out, in and out, Johnny silently counted each breath. 

_Come on you annoying jackass breathe!_

He felt the patient breathe back into his mouth and lifted his head. “He’s breathing on his own.” He reached for the oxygen and placed it gently on Gregor’s face and began taking his vitals. 

“Rampart patient is now breathing on his own and we are administering oxygen. Stand by for vitals.” Roy waited.

“BP is 135 over 75. Pulse is 100. Respirations are…” Johnny laid his hand down and tallied, “...respirations are 25.” 

Johnny listened as Roy repeated the information back to Morton and patched the sticky markers to Gregor’s chest in anticipation of sending a strip to the hospital. He acknowledged Roy’s stare and held up two long fingers.

Roy understood. “Rampart we are sending you a strip on lead two.” 

_“Okay. 51. Sinus rhythm. Start an IV with D5W TKO and transport as soon as possible.”_

“10-4 Rampart. IV with D5W TKO.” Roy paused. “Be advised the ambulance is on scene. Anticipate ETA 12 minutes.”

_“10-4 51.”_

Johnny ripped open the bag and attached the IV line. “It’s in Roy. We can transport.”

Roy nodded. He looked guarded the way he usually did when a rescue started to go sour. He didn’t like the status quo screwing with him and Johnny wholeheartedly agreed. “I’ll ride in with him.”

“Okay. I’ll bring the squad in.” Johnny bent over to pick up the drug box and his stomach growled. 

“Is he going to be okay?” Mrs. Gregor looked on worriedly. Johnny noted that her arms had finally stopped swinging. 

“Rampart is a very good hospital. They’ll do everything they can. The doctors will figure this out.” 

She tore her eyes away from her husband being loaded onto the ambulance. 

“Do you want to ride along?” Johnny asked.

Mrs. Gregor shook her head. “I’ll meet you there. I’m gonna need my car.”

“It'll be alright Mrs. Gregor.” Johnny offered. He started picking up the equipment and hoped for the zillionth time in his paramedic career that it actually would be alright.

“Will it?”

“Huh?” Johnny turned around to face her, waited.

“Will it be alright? I heard you say the same phrase to my husband earlier and then I saw what happened to him.” She looked at Johnny for a second and walked back toward her house. Johnny’s eyes followed her the entire way. 

He sat behind the wheel of the Squad and paused for a second before turning the ignition and pulling out behind the ambulance. The drive to the hospital was Johnny’s usual time to reflect back on the rescue and mess with his own head. He went over the procedures from start to finish. Gregor was a difficult patient, but he was probably frightened and fear trumped manners every damn time. Johnny blinked into the sun. He just couldn’t imagine the man ever being polite. It was a strange case. Gregor was suspicious from the start. He didn’t want help.

Johnny considered.

No, he thought he couldn’t be helped. Last time somebody helped him, his arm stopped moving. 

He remembered Gregor’s words. The guy seemed like a jerk but Johnny wished him the best. 

He turned out of the long driveway and headed off toward Rampart.

********************************************

Roy watched his partner shuffle into the Emergency Room and caught his attention with a wave. “I’m over here.” He leaned against the wall and waited for Johnny. 

The day was really getting to Roy and it was unnerving that he couldn’t pinpoint with any degree of certainty a specific reason for the fast decline.

His body ached from spending the entire weekend helping Joanne’s cousin move a ton of stuff into his new apartment in Lakewood. If Roy had a little time between calls he might be able to take a hot shower and loosen his muscles but right now he felt stiff, old and worn out. He stretched and groaned. Damn it. He’d probably be sore for days now and he wasn’t even fond of the guy. 

From the first call out the gate to the next one with the argumentative Gregor’s, Roy’s day had so far sucked. 

Morning had started off pretty good with the promise of chili over eggs a la Marco Lopez but then it quickly deteriorated with an emergency call just before his second sip of coffee. 

The rescues had been a bit unnerving; a choking kid with a dangerous mother and the possible drowning of an incorrigible patient who might have ended up having a heart attack. 

“Huh.” Roy realized with a start that he’d watched Johnny give mouth to mouth twice today in as many rescues. His partner never hesitated. 

Mr. Gregor’s arm was interesting though. Roy had only come across that type of situation one other time in his paramedic career while treating a young man who’d fallen down a cliffside. In that case, being cautious helped rather than harmed. Someone had screwed up Mr. Gregor’s arm. No wonder the guy was so mistrusting of the medical profession. 

Roy exhaled a few times and made a conscious effort to pull himself together. He tucked his uniform shirt deeper into his pants and brushed a bit of dust off the sleeve of his blue jacket. 

What the hell happened to the day? Probably just another Weird Wednesday that Johnny was always suspicious about only this time it had arrived on a Monday. 

He rubbed his forehead and gestured to his partner irritably. The slight throb gearing up in his forehead meant a caffeine withdrawal headache was about to slam into his brain without mercy. 

Roy needed coffee - fast. 

“Any word yet on Mr. Gregor?” Johnny interrupted his thoughts. He looked about as tired as Roy felt. 

“Nothing yet; Brackett is with him now.” He watched Johnny stretch and crack his back. 

“He was just so darn weird Roy.” Johnny’s stomach growled noisily and he flushed. “And the wife was the same way. Do you know wanna know what she said to me? Do you?” Without waiting for Roy to reply he continued, “She insinuated that because I told her husband that he would be fine and then suddenly he wasn’t fine that when I told her everything would be fine that then it wouldn’t be!” 

Roy did his best to follow along. 

_Lucky thing I speak Gage._

“Yeah, I get it. He and his wife were certainly unusual.”

“Unusual?” Johnny shook his head and stretched again, all tight skin over muscle. “Unusual? That’s putting it mildly.” 

Roy watched his partner flex his limber body easily and felt a pang of jealousy that faded immediately when Johnny grinned. He flashed back to a year ago, with Dr. Morton calling Johnny ‘soft’ and Johnny getting enraged at the comment. The depth of his anger was interesting – it was only Morton getting under his skin as usual – but Roy had always wondered why it lit Johnny’s fuse so quickly. And why he went to such excess to erase how badly Morton had made him feel.

He sighed. “Okay, so they were highly unusual. Better?” 

“Well I guess so.” Johnny did not seem convinced.

“Either way, he didn’t place a very high value on paramedics.” Roy patted his friend on the back as they walked towards the Nurse’s Desk.

Johnny chuckled. “You mean that ‘waste of taxpayer’s money’ crack wasn’t really a compliment?”

Roy smiled. No matter what kind of mood he was in Johnny could always get him back in good spirits in record time. There wasn’t anyone else in the world quite like his gregarious partner. 

“Junior, I don’t think it was.”

As usual Johnny’s mind jumped over a few steps to change the conversation in a different direction. “You wanna get coffee?”

“Yes please.” He reasoned that a quick shot of caffeine might help him feel better. Sometimes it was scary how easily Johnny could read his mind.

Grrrrrrrawwwal 

Johnny rubbed his stomach.

“We have some time. Let’s make that food and coffee.”

Johnny winced. “You heard that huh?

Roy marveled at all the ways Johnny sometimes seemed so naïve. “I think the entire hospital did.”

Johnny cringed, but his response of “Quit your exaggerating,” was light and joking. 

***********************************************

 

The coffee tasted like heaven. Roy blew on it a few times to make the heat palatable and then inhaled the aroma before taking a deep slow sip.

“Needed that, huh?” Johnny took a drink from his own cup and grinned. 

“Yeah, more than I thought I did. I got a bit of a headache. This day is already dragging me down. It just feels strange somehow.”

Johnny took a long drink of milk and licked the rim of white from the top of his lip. He put the glass next to his coffee and started arranging the ham and cheese sandwich on his plate. He removed one tomato slice and added lettuce, took a bite of pickle and checked to make sure there was enough mayo on his bread. “What do you mean strange?”

Roy considered. “Well, for starters, that woman. She forced her child to swallow an entire bottle of aspirin just so we’d come out there to save her. I mean, that’s crazy.” As a father, he found it impossible to understand Mrs. Cooper’s actions. Roy loved his children dearly. He could never imagine hurting them. It was so outside the realm of what a good parent would do that it boggled his mind. 

“And not baby aspirin either! Regular aspirin! I just can’t...” He spun around toward the cafeteria entrance sure that someone was standing right behind him breathing down his back, but there was nobody there. “…understand why a mother would do that.”

“Dr. Brackett said Mrs. Cooper was just released from the county hospital. She’s got some problems Roy. He called it Munchausen proxy syndrome or something. The little girl is going to pull through okay. Her father’s not in the picture so they’re trying to locate her grandparents up near San Jose.” Dark eyes followed Roy’s gaze. “Is something wrong?”

“Just that I’m starting to think there’s not enough coffee in the world to settle my headache.” Roy took another deep sip. He didn’t want to bother Johnny with the crazy idea that someone was watching them. He’d had the exact same feeling at the child’s house this morning. But why would anyone want to do that? It was stupid. His partner would fret all afternoon if he mentioned it to him and a paranoid Johnny was no fun at all. Roy took another drink and set his cup on the table. “Still, this is exactly what I wanted.”

Johnny nodded and reached for his sandwich, “Well, this is exactly what I want!” He took a big bite and closed his eyes, smiling. “I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday Roy. I am starving to death!”

Roy smiled. Johnny never did anything small. “Same here. And we’ve been going nonstop for nearly three straight hours with no breakfast.” 

Johnny took another quick bite. “I wonder what Chet’s making for lunch.”

Roy picked up his sandwich, “Lets worry about this meal first…”

_“Squad 51 Two vehicle accident, over the cliff. Near the Lighthouse exit. Time out 10:55.”_

Johnny picked up the Handy Talkie and sighed, “Squad 51.” He dropped his sandwich and grabbed the pickle off his plate. He mouthed it in one gulp as he followed Roy out of the lunchroom. “Make that four straight hours now, partner.”

********************************************

Johnny edged his lithe body into the back seat of the crumpled moving van squeezing his arms out in front of his face and sliding his hands through the dark red blood painting the head of the woman pinned behind the crushed steering wheel of the suspended vehicle.

Sweat dripped down his nose and into the curve of his lips and the heat from the flames of the other damaged car plastered limp curls in spirals against his forehead. Johnny huffed out a breath of air to move the strands away from his eyes. He couldn’t reach the woman’s hands inside the twisted mess of metal. She was firmly entrenched within the wreckage and removing her safely would not be an easy task. 

“Tread carefully John!” Captain Stanley advised. “We’re still tying off the grill and steadying you out here!”

“I will Cap.” Long fingers found the woman’s carotid artery and Johnny tensed up. She was still alive. “Ma’am can you hear me?” He touched around her skull gently, found a lump. The responding “ugh” was not very encouraging. 

“You’re gonna be just fine. My name is John Gage. I’m a paramedic with the LA County Fire Department. We’re working on getting you out, okay?”

Johnny tried to back out slightly to get a better grip on the woman but a row of jagged metal teeth protruding through the side of the vehicle gave him pause. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if he was injured during the rescue. Still, the woman was bleeding out badly. She didn’t have much time.

“Help…help...” The woman tried to move her head to look in Johnny’s direction and then groaned in pain, “Oh..."

“I know it hurts but I need you to stay still and let me do all the work, okay?” Johnny’s voice sounded calmer than he felt. He jerked back when the vehicle moved forward a couple of inches. His heart beat wildly. “Roy, I need a cervical collar in here now!” 

Roy’s feet scampered away towards their equipment. “Got it!” The older paramedic moved lightly into the van, careful not to dislodge the balance and send it flying down into the ravine below. “Here!” 

Johnny took the neck brace without a word. He tried not to breathe unless it was absolutely necessary. The woman was moaning now, barely conscious. Maybe it was better for her this way, he thought, completely unaware that the odds were stacked against her. 

He felt the van lurch again and cursed under his breath while he secured the collar. 

“You’re doing great.” 

Johnny didn’t know if the woman could still hear him or not. It was entirely possible that she never really heard him at all. Regardless, he continued speaking. “Everything’s gonna be just fine.” The woman didn’t respond but it made him feel better to keep reassuring her right up until the moment she was on her way to Rampart in the ambulance. “We’re gonna get you out of here very soon. Ugh!”

Johnny winced when a sudden pain shot through his hand. “Ah!” He was pretty sure he didn’t touch the sharp metal points but something still stung like hell. He noticed shattered glass from the window dotting the woman’s sweater but didn’t pull his fingers away. 

“Roy? She’s wedged in here really tight. I have her in the collar. She has a bruise on her forehead that’s swelling pretty badly and she’s bleeding from wounds on her shoulder and her head. She’s also got some superficial cuts from window glass on her face. I’m worried about the head injury.” He paused. “I also think she might have a few broken ribs. My reach is limited in that area so I’m not completely sure but something there is shifting.” 

“Okay Johnny.” Roy’s voice sounded strained. “We’re rigging something up to give you more room in the van so we can get her out but…” 

The slight delay in his speech was alarming. “Roy?”

“The ground isn’t as stable as we’d like it to be.”

“When is it ever?” Johnny sighed. If his partner said the team was working on something then Johnny knew it was only a matter of time before they figured things out.

“What’s that?” Roy’s voice sounded tired.

“Nothing, just keep me informed.” He considered. “Do we have a name on this lady yet?”

“Vince is running the rental plates. We should have something soon.” 

He heard Roy talking with somebody, probably Vince, and waited.

“Johnny her name is Nancy Markham.” 

Johnny acknowledged him briefly, “Got it,” before continuing with his patient. “We’re gonna get you out Nancy.” He monitored her pulse, realized it was dropping.

“Just sit tight, okay?” Roy’s voice held an edge that Johnny recognized as worry. He’d heard the same tone in his partner’s voice many times before. 

“Okay,” he murmured in response. 

_What aren’t you telling me partner?_

“Johnny! I need you to hold…!” 

Johnny felt the ground slide out from beneath his feet and suddenly he knew exactly what Roy was going to say. 

********************************************

"Uh...." Johnny struggled to right himself inside the twisted mess of metal. 

“Nancy? Can you hear me?” He estimated that the slide down the embankment had lasted less than a minute and that for now at least, they were sitting on firmer ground. There was always the possibility that the sliding van had landed atop a ceiling of hidden brush or was hovering over an outcropping of rock, but thinking negatively wasn’t going to help Nancy Markham so he pushed the possibility temporarily out of his mind and took stock of his surroundings. “All right, let’s see now.” 

Johnny licked his lips and tasted blood. Then he licked them again out of habit. His body had spun around completely in the plummet and the line of rope that he carried over his shoulder into the wreck had twisted around his waist and thighs, traveled up near his throat and hooked itself around a projection of metal somewhere in the dark interior. 

While it was more than a little disconcerting to realize how close he’d come to being strangled, Johnny didn’t think he had sustained any serious injuries. He turned his attention back to the victim. “Nancy, it’s going to be fine. The van slid down a little-ways but we’re gonna fix it all up and get you out of here soon, okay?”

Johnny leaned against the back seat to untangle the mess of rope from around his legs and gasped in pain when his arm brushed back against the fabric of his coat.

“Ouch! What the…ugh!” he reached for his arm and his hand came away bloody. The left arm of his turnout coat was ripped straight through. “Damn.”

Johnny remembered the jagged edges of metal inside the bent-up door that he’d seen earlier and was immediately thankful that his injuries weren’t worse. He applied pressure for a minute, breathed in deeply and assessed his situation.

The injured woman was hanging by her seatbelt, still in the cervical collar and facing away from him, slanted against the caved-in roof, but free of the obstruction that had wedged her in so tightly when Johnny arrived on the scene. He tried speaking to her again but she remained unresponsive and whatever her medical problems that was never a very good sign. 

“Almost there.” 

Johnny attempted to judge the distance to the canyon road above where A-Shift was figuring out their next move but fell short. He thought of Roy and frowned. His partner was probably a mental case right about now. 

There was no way for Johnny to tell for sure how far they’d traveled over the embankment or even if they had completely finished moving. He couldn’t see anything through the shattered glass and didn’t have a clue in which direction he was facing. The only view he had at the moment was of the warped dashboard mere inches away from his face and his patient’s own suspended body. 

The team would get to him soon. He just had to sit tight and wait for them to arrive. In the meantime, Johnny was going to do exactly what he was trained to do. 

He stretched and wiggled his body around until he felt secure enough to proceed. “Just give me a second and I’ll get to you. I just have to spin myself around a bit and get rid of this rope...” 

It took a few minutes but Johnny found his footing and reached out with his right arm to secure a steady hold and leverage himself into a position where he could best offer aid. His agile fingers searched out his patient’s head with practiced ease. “There we go. Just let me get a look here.” The truck lurched slightly and Johnny gasped in surprise when the woman started to twist around in his direction.

“Hey now,” Johnny smiled. He grabbed her hand to take her pulse and his body went cold. Nancy Markham was sagging like a puppet, staring at him vacantly.

There was no life left in her eyes.

********************************************

Roy raced to the edge of the cliff and peered over the side. He could see the van settled haphazardly near the bottom of the ravine. It had spun around once and had landed right side up, but was twisted slightly sideways with the rear door now crushed closed. The overloaded contents it carried were spread out like a trail of breadcrumbs all throughout the brush along the hazardous pathway down. 

"Johnny!" Roy shouted but he didn't expect a response. "Cap, the van stopped. We need to get down there." 

"Get the gear ready Marco! Roy, you and Chet go over the side. We'll anchor you here. Get two stokes ready in case we need one for Gage."

Roy nodded and rubbed his eyes. He estimated that the van had traveled at least five hundred feet over the valley side of the cliff. This section of the lighthouse area was brushy and dangerous but at least there were no large rocks. He resisted the urge to yell to his partner that they were on their way down to get him. Whether he heard Roy or not it wouldn't matter.  


Johnny would know that help was coming.

Vince stood next to him carefully observing the situation below. As always, the officer's familiar presence made Roy feel a bit more secure. He noted the outline of a hidden small caliber gun in Vince's uniform leg and twisted his mouth slightly. He’d never noticed it before.

"That's a long way down Roy," Vince shook his head. He pointed to where the contents of the van were scattered. “That mess will make the going rough.”

“Yeah,” Roy swallowed. It was crazy the way the van toppled over the side of the road. One line should have made the perch a bit more secure. At the very least the load should have dangled a bit, not busted through the rope and soared down the hillside like a sleigh ride. The shuttered hatch on the van made it impossible for them to see everything that Nancy Markham had packed inside. One rope didn’t even make a dent. The loaded vehicle slipped through the soft earth in seconds. “It looks like she was moving everything she owned.”

“She was coming down from Seattle. Hit the other driver head on. He died on impact and she spun out,” Vince shook his head. “People aren’t careful enough on these roads. She may have fallen asleep.”

“Yeah, I know.” 

Nancy Markham was taking a chance on moving to another part of the country, probably hoping for a fresh start, only to end up wounded and in distress far from home. At least she had Johnny. His partner would take good care of her. 

“Makes you wonder how the ships ever made it in.” Vince shook his head ruefully, “I wish drivers had lighthouses to guide them.”

Roy looked at the lighthouse and felt an immediate sense of recall. He’d been in this spot before. Not the exact spot, but pretty close. The lighthouse in the distance mocked him, trying to get under his skin but Roy had more pressing things on his mind. 

He watched Marco get the two stokes ready and sincerely hoped Johnny would be able to walk away from this mess on his own.

“Roy!” Chet hooked up his gear and tossed a set to Roy. “Cap says we can start down now as soon as we anchor the lines.”

“Yeah, let’s get going.” It was disturbing to think of his partner trapped in the wreckage at the bottom of the valley. He remembered Johnny’s stomach rumbling at the hospital earlier. His friend hadn’t eaten anything all day. He sighed and started down the ravine. There would be time for a nice lunch when this rescue was over. “Let’s do this.”

Chet read his mind. “I’m sure Johnny’s fine. He’s got nine lives.” Roy’s mental response of ‘I hope so’ went unspoken.

“Okay men, let’s go!” Cap rallied them over to the road’s edge. “I’ll send down the drug box.” 

Roy dodged Nancy Markham’s scattered possessions carefully on his way down the ravine. He knew Chet was having the same difficulty but neither man complained. There was simply no other way to reach their victims. Still, it made the trip to his partner’s side take a lot longer than Roy would have liked. 

“Be careful, Roy!” Chet shouted. “I think all of her clothing is scattered up ahead. She must have sealed the boxes shut with Elmer’s glue.”

It was slow going all the way down. Roy raced to the van’s closest window when they hit the bottom, “Johnny!" He couldn’t see inside the vehicle. 

"Johnny, are you okay?" He knocked on the window as hard as he dared. A bloody hand clawed at the exposed glass in reply and Roy jumped back. 

“Yeah,” Johnny’s voice sounded strained.

“Hold tight. We’re gonna get you out.” Roy tried to peel away the front glass window but it wasn’t budging. “How is the patient? Are you injured?” 

His partner didn’t answer immediately, then, “I’m okay. She’s dead.”

Roy exchanged a glance with Chet. It was never easy losing a victim, especially one that was breathing when you first arrived on the scene, “Understood.”

The exposed side of the truck was smashed in completely. Roy tried to pull the door handle out but it wouldn’t shift. “We’re gonna need the jaws and a crow bar.” He tried the handle again just to be sure. “I can’t free it.”

“Gotcha! I don’t see any leaking fuel!” Chet gave him a concerned glance and took off back up the mountain.

“We’re getting the Jaws. The van is pretty smashed. You sure you’re okay?” Roy knew his partner very well. Okay for Johnny might mean anything from a burn to a concussion whereas injured might mean singed hair or a splinter. “Johnny? Did you lose consciousness at all?”

“No, I didn’t. I’m good. Just cut up a bit. There’s some jagged metal...” Johnny’s voice drifted. “It’s a mess in here.”

Roy acknowledged, “Yeah, it’s a mess out here too.” He leaned his head against the door and waited. Johnny wanted out of the van, but he’d been a paramedic and fireman long enough to know that although his team would work their asses off to retrieve him, the same sense of urgency was missing when there was no immediate danger to anyone involved.

“We got it!” Marco followed Chet over to the pickup. 

Minutes later the Jaws sprang to life and probed into the door stretching it open. The sound of creaking metal drilled Roy’s ears. He waited impatiently for the entrance to be cleared. He looked toward the lighthouse and blinked. There was a lone figure standing at the top of the hillside staring down at the accident. Roy blinked once and the man disappeared. It wasn’t unusual for people to gawk but still, it spooked him.

“We got it Roy!” Chet opened the door. “Hey Johnny, sorry it took so long pal. That hill…” 

Roy watched his partner stumble past Chet and kneel on the clearing outside the vehicle. His hair was matted to his forehead and his turnout sleeve and hand were drenched in blood. “How bad is it?” 

“It’s not bad,” Johnny’s voice was flat. “I’m good Roy.”

“Just wait here and let me take a look at you.” Roy said and after a second Johnny nodded. “Then we’ll get you to Rampart.” He squeezed his friend’s shoulder before moving away to help Chet and Marco extricate Nancy Markham's body. 

********************************************

The man watched the light-haired paramedic fuss over his partner and rubbed his stomach in anticipation. Desoto seemed so solicitous with Gage and the way they touched and interacted was proof of what his friend had told him while he was in the hospital. The paramedics were definitely more than friends. 

He’d been watching them work from a distance all week, moving closer with each passing day, and although he hadn’t seen any groping or romantic interaction the context was there, just beneath the surface, in the hidden glances and subtle caresses that they shared. Together these two men had ended his friend’s career. And they would soon pay the price for that destruction.

_Johnny, don’t rush._

_I’m not rushing. I just don’t wanna be here Roy._

_You have glass in your hair._

Gage staggered slightly and the man frowned. He hoped the paramedic wasn’t injured too badly and sent home. If that happened he’d have to delay his plan until their next shift and then start everything all over again. He steered himself for the worst but then smiled. Gage would be fine. It would all work out perfectly. 

The paramedic shook the glass out of his hair and the dark locks glistened like velvet in the afternoon sun. He stood silently for a moment and waited for his partner. When Desoto arrived, he checked Gage’s hair out for himself and helped him into the little red truck. His hand lingered in the curve of Gage’s thin arm covetously and the man gasped at the shared intimacy they displayed like whores for all of their colleagues to see.

He swallowed down a hard shudder but refused to allow himself any type of release. Besides, it wasn’t really necessary. 

He’d be deep inside of Gage by nightfall.

********************************************

 

“I’ll take him in three Roy.” Dr. Joe Early gestured to the two paramedics and followed them inside. He watched Desoto guide his partner into the treatment room holding on to his waist the entire way, “Come on Johnny. Let’s get you up on the table.” 

“Hey Doc,” Gage sounded weary. He had a wound on his forehead that didn’t look very serious and another one on his arm that was soaking the bandage. The victim he was injured trying to rescue hadn’t survived the crash.

“I heard about the accident guys, I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, it was…” Gage offered and Desoto cut in to finish, “…pretty awful.”

Early nodded, “From what I hear.” He clicked the overhead light on to examine the wound on Gage’s forehead. “I’ll fix you up in no time Johnny. This doesn’t look serious.” He turned to Desoto, “Can you get me that alcohol? I’m just going to clean this off and put a bandage on it.” 

Gage winced when the tape pulled slightly on his hair and Early resisted the impulse to tell him to sit still. The young paramedic looked beat already and it was barely two o’clock. He patted Gage’s leg, removed the blood-soaked gauze from his arm and whistled, “That’s pretty jagged. When did you last get a tetanus shot?”

"Three years ago, maybe, I think. Yeah, it was definitely around that time.” Gage watched Early clean the blood off his arm. “Do I need stitches Doc?” He touched the cut and Early prodded his fingers away.

“You’re definitely going to need a few. I’m also going to give you a tetanus booster.” He gestured to Roy, “How about playing nurse for me?” 

Early worked carefully, knitting each stitch, and noting with some dismay that his usually talkative patient barely said a word. “There we go Johnny, all done. I don’t think you’ll see much of a scar.” He bandaged the arm carefully and noticed another smaller cut on Gage’s finger. “I’ll get that one too. What did you cut yourself on?”

Gage held up his finger, “Window glass I think.” He gestured to his left arm, “This was from some bent metal inside the van. I must have smacked up against it during the slide down the mountain.”

Early wondered again how they did what they did day after day; the danger, the exhilaration and the sadness. He rolled up Johnny’s sleeve and injected the needle. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse,” Early considered, “When is your next shift?”

Desoto responded for his partner, “We’re off for two days starting tomorrow.”

“Do you think you can finish it out?”

Gage replied with a sigh, “Yeah, I just need someone to feed me and put me to bed later and I’ll be as good as new.”

Early took note of Desoto’s fond expression and realized he was making the same face himself. He laughed, “Okay, great. Just keep those bandages clean and dry. If they need changing I’m sure your partner can handle it. He makes one hell of a nurse.”

Gage’s smile cheered him even if it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Thanks doc. I’ll do my best.” 

He stood up and patted Early on the back. It was their usual routine and it made the doctor feel a little bit better about his patient’s mental state.

“I’ll make sure he eats something,” Roy advised with a stern look at his friend. “We just need to pick up some supplies and then it’s back to the barn.”

“See to it that he does.” Early watched both men leave and grinned. He couldn’t imagine the hospital without them.

********************************************

The man opened the side of the Squad and felt along its lines gently, eagerly even, determined to find the equipment he was looking for and “fix” it before the next rescue - the special rescue. He located two flashlights, twisted the lids off the battery casings and replaced the batteries inside with older, fading units with poor connectors. Their light would not last for more than a couple of minutes at best. He glanced around briefly but as expected the handy-talkie was in the paramedics’ possession and had not been left behind. No matter. He had not expected to find it. He stroked the top of the drug box, opened it and read the words casually to himself savoring the sound of each letter. 

IV IV IV 

There was a time when he wanted to be a part of this elite group, any group of medical people really, after his friend had saved his life in the war. Back when he thought things might turn out differently and he responded to a name, Peter, but not anymore. Now he hated them. It was as simple as that. He hated all paramedics in general, but these two paramedics in particular. They had destroyed his friend's life. They had made him a mockery in the fire department. 

The man smiled when he imagined the two uniformed men trying to contact the hospital with the bio-phone and not getting a response. They wouldn’t have enough time to figure out why. It would be far too late by then. He wondered which one of them would make the call, Gage or Desoto. It really wouldn’t matter. He’d have them both soon enough. 

He opened the drug box and began his search.

********************************************

 

“I hope they saved us something,” Johnny grumbled. 

Roy nodded to his friend, “Yeah, you definitely need to eat.” He frowned, “You feel okay? Not dizzy?”

The bandage Dr. Early had applied to Johnny’s forehead nearly an hour before was still in place, barely noticeable under his unruly locks of dark hair. The bandage on his left arm was easier to see, a white stripe nearly three inches wide peeking out from under the cuff of his blue uniform shirt. 

While the head wound was just a slight gash, Johnny’s arm had needed eighteen stitches to seal.

“I’m okay.” Johnny winced when he touched his arm and then jumped in his seat when Roy shouted, “Hey, hands off!” 

Roy shook his head. Sometimes Johnny drove him crazy but today he got a free pass. Today Roy was happy just to have his friend sitting next to him complaining or rambling on about anything he wanted. Johnny could carry on for the remainder of their shift and Roy swore he wouldn’t even blink an eye. “Sorry, but you heard what the doc said. You need to keep that clean.”

Roy could feel Johnny pouting without even looking at him. Earlier, watching the van slide down the hillside he’d expected the worst. As usual with Johnny, you never got quite what you expected.

“Yeah, I know. I know.” Johnny sighed. He yawned once and seemed to curl up like a cat. “I am dragging today Roy.”

“Who wouldn’t be after the morning you’ve had.” Roy looked at him, a quick glance. “Today was close.”

Johnny nodded, met Roy’s eyes and looked away, “Too close.” 

Roy wished there was something he could say but Johnny had to work this out on his own. It was never easy losing a patient. They weren’t doctors but as paramedics they usually saw the worst of an accident up close, with all the violence and terror that the doctors didn’t see. They offered medical care and encouragement to the wounded when possible and blanketed their faces when optimism was no longer an option. Blood and twisted metal were a daily occurrence and some days it was impossible to block out all the rage and sorrow.

“She was alive when I got there,” Johnny’s voice was low but firm. “And now she’s not.”

“Yeah, I know. But she was hurt pretty badly.” Roy kept his voice steady. “She didn’t survive the fall.”

“Why did the van slide like that?” Johnny was searching for something, anything that would help him understand. He knew why the van slid but he just needed to hear it spoken out loud. 

“We secured the front with a rope.” Roy repeated. He’d said the same words to Johnny at the scene. “But the van was packed too heavily in the back and the ground was loose and gravelly. The rope snapped like a twig before we could get another one on it. You went over backwards.” He sighed. “It happens sometimes.”

“Yeah, it happens,” Johnny managed. “I should have gotten her out.”

“You couldn’t.” 

“I should have tried to move her before checking her vitals.”

“She was wedged behind the steering wheel. It was impossible to free her in the time you had.”

“Yeah, but, maybe if I was more careful or if I tried harder.” 

“Johnny!” Roy shouted. He lowered his voice. “Hey.”

_Come on partner, you’ve been here before._

“It wasn’t your fault. There was nothing you could have done to make that woman stay alive.”

Roy watched Johnny nod slightly, watched his neck muscles clench, and waited.

“You know for a brief moment, after the fall, when I finally got to her, I thought she was looking at me, and that she was conscious. I smiled at her Roy." Johnny stared straight ahead. “But she was already dead. I was smiling at her corpse.” 

********************************************

Chet watched the Squad pull into the bay and exhaled softly. He noticed Roy’s frown almost immediately but Johnny’s demeanor was harder to judge. The dark-haired paramedic quickly wrote up his notes and stuffed them under the passenger side visor. He barely gave Chet a glance when he stepped out of the vehicle. Both men looked worn out.

“Hey guys. Lunch is in the oven.” Chet pushed into Johnny’s personal space and whistled. “You sure look like crap Gage.” 

_But i'm darn happy to see you._

Johnny’s crooked smile was forced, “Next time you slide over a hillside and down into a canyon with your head stuck up inside the cab of a crumpled van I hope I have a Polaroid ready to snap your picture Chet.”

Chet smirked. “You can’t afford a Polaroid Gage.” 

Johnny snickered but didn’t respond. He walked into the bathroom without another word.

Usually Johnny was all up in his face with useless banter and mindless insults but today the only comeback he was capable of was a lame joke and a half-assed smirk. Johnny might be the Phantom’s favorite foil, but he was also Chet’s close friend, and right now his friend was hurting.

“Is he okay?” Chet waited as Roy considered his reply. 

“He’s much better now than he was when we cut him out of that mess. He’s taking it hard.” Roy clenched his fists a few times. He looked like he wanted to pound something. 

Chet took a step out of his way. “Yeah, that was rough.” He didn’t think he’d ever forget how freaked out Johnny looked sitting in the corner of the van with his knees glued to his chin or how quickly he’d scampered for the exit and fell to the ground once they pried the smashed door open. Like he couldn’t get the hell away from the bad scene fast enough. He’d been trapped inside the battered auto with Nancy Markham’s body for nearly an hour.

“He’ll be okay. You know Johnny. It just might take him a while to get over this one.”

Johnny chose that moment to walk back into the room. Both men clammed up instantly.

“Hope you’re hungry Gage. Fireman’s Stew is your favorite, right? Especially when it’s been sitting for a couple of hours.” Chet waited hoping Johnny didn’t disappoint him. 

Johnny glanced at Roy with a long-suffering expression, “Chet, Fireman’s stew is nobody’s favorite. Especially when it’s been sitting for a couple of hours.” 

“Well, whatever, it’s waiting for you in the oven.” 

“Then it’s going to have a very long wait,” Johnny yawned. “Let Roy have it. I’m taking a nap in the dorm.” 

Chet noticed Roy’s quick reaction when Gage said he wasn’t going to eat. He tried again, “You can make a sandwich if you don’t want the stew. Marco bought some cold cuts.” 

Johnny winced. “I’m too tired Chet.” 

“You need to eat,” Roy interrupted. His voice sounded stern. Chet marveled at the relationship between the two men. At various times Roy took on the role of Johnny’s father, brother, lover, friend. Chet envied their closeness. “You told Doctor Early you were going to eat.” 

“I’ll eat when I’m hungry Roy,” Johnny’s mouth twitched. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and leaned hard against the wall. Chet noticed a bandage on his middle finger that he didn’t notice earlier. He must have gotten that injury on the last call too. 

Chet knew he shouldn’t get involved but damn it, Johnny really did look bamboozled. “The nap actually sounds like one of your better ideas Gage. It wouldn’t look good for the department if one of our station’s paramedics passed out and went Code I in the station following a run.” 

Johnny spun around. “Look, Chet I’m fine. I’m not going to pass out and I’m not going to eat your damn Fireman’s Stew!” He rubbed his hand over his face. Delicate fingers tangled with the bandage on his forehead and he ripped it off with a vengeance. “I’m just tired!” He tossed the bandage on the floor and wrapped his arms around his waist breathing heavily and leaning back against the Squad. 

It was weird seeing Johnny look so small. Somehow, despite being a beanpole, the man always seemed larger than life. He had a zest for living that Chet admired, and an almost insurmountable resilience that made Chet happy to be around him even when it seemed that Johnny didn’t feel the same way. Sure, they battled and kidded and baited each other but Chet treasured the days when they were on the same side. 

“Johnny.” Roy’s voice held an unspoken warning and Chet backed off slightly, hoping they weren’t going to have an argument. 

Johnny stared at Roy, not willing to give an inch. “Roy.” 

“Did that outburst make you feel better?” 

Johnny licked his lips. Chet could tell he wanted to stay angry. 

Roy waited. Talking Johnny down was obviously a big part of his job description. “Well, did it? Make you feel better I mean.” 

Johnny’s quiet sigh and half-hearted grin made Chet two shades of happy, “Yeah, kinda.” 

Captain Stanley poked his head out of his office and gazed at his men. Chet was positively certain he’d heard the entire thing. “Is something going on out here that your captain should know about?” 

“No Cap, nothing at all.” Johnny shook his head. “Chet was just trying to sell me and Roy on the nutritional value of Fireman’s Stew.” 

“Well, you better eat it now before it gets up and walks away on its own.” Cap deadpanned. 

“Right Cap. Good thing I’m starving.” Johnny glanced at Roy and squeezed Chet’s shoulder before walking into the kitchen. 

Chet thought his own responding smile might just last for the entire shift. 

******************************************** 

Gage sat in his locker with his head in his hands, eyes open and staring off into space. Captain Stanley could see the bruise on his forehead clearly; he’d never bothered to tape it up again after his small tirade. 

Despite what he'd said earlier about being starving, Gage had barely made a dent in his lunch. 

Stanley wished he could understand Gage half as much as Desoto seemed to get him. His younger paramedic was, well, different for lack of a better word. Full of energy and always onto some new scheme or involved in some odd situation, his mind never seemed to quit. He obsessed over one thing to the next, from a credit card over-charge to a problem with his current girlfriend, with boundless energy, strong opinions and smiles to spare. Although Gage sometimes acted a bit loopy around the station Stanley knew that on the job he was the ultimate professional and amazingly bright and quick on his feet. The ring of the alarm bell transformed him. 

He never forgot the first time he saw the paramedic in action soon after taking over at 51’s during a multi-car collision on the 405 freeway. Gage was young, green, and in some ways as shy as a nun, but he was still confident enough to shock a man back to life with the defibrillator one moment and stick a needle into his vein in the next. 

After Desoto departed with the ambulance, Gage just stood there and stared watching it drive away. Stanley could tell he was lost in thought but there was something else in his dark eyes, a look of wonder maybe, or possibly amazement. 

_“John?” he’d said just to make conversation._

_“I almost turned down the chance to be a paramedic. But I didn’t and now that guy in the ambulance, THAT GUY Cap, the one leaving now with Roy. I think he’s going to make it! It was touch and go for a while but I think he’s going to be okay.”_

Stanley never forgot Gage’s smile that day; innocent, happy and just so gosh darn proud. 

But today was different. Gage didn’t seem happy or proud. And after almost four years on the job he no longer seemed innocent. 

Stanley moved quietly but Gage still jumped. 

“Oh, hey Cap.” 

“John buddy, you doing okay?” 

“I’m alright.” A shadow passed across Gage’s angled features. “Look, about earlier, I shouldn’t have mouthed off to Kelly like that. I apologized to him Cap. I was just…” 

“An apology is good.” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry. But earlier, that call…” he bit his lip and tried to find the right words. “It messed with me a bit you know?” Gage shrugged. 

Stanley considered. When it came to emotional issues Gage usually kept his talkative self, closed up tighter than the Engine valve, so to even hear the man admit that something ‘messed’ with him was a bit of a shock. When the paramedic was really bothered by something he usually talked to Desoto. 

Maybe it would be a good idea to drop it and let Gage get it off his chest in his own time. On the other hand, he was the Captain and the health of his men, both physical and mental, was a responsibility he took seriously. He dug his heels in and didn’t waver. “Talk to me Gage.” 

“Ah Cap!” 

Whatever he was going to say was drowned out by the bang of the klaxon sending Squad 51 on the way to their next rescue. 

******************************************** 

The eight-story building off Sepulveda and Hudson looked abandoned.  


Dilapidated boards gave it the appearance of a one-dimensional movie set piece rather than an actual place where people lived from day to day. The stairs leading up to the entrance were choppy with broken cement and sluggish boards and plaster siding hung loosely from the various decaying floors. 

Roy fought off a shudder. The open windows dotting the spotty framework made it seem like the building was watching him. The next strong rain would probably tear off a huge piece of the original roof. Hell, it probably leaked already. He made a mental note to suggest to Captain Stanley that he have a team spot-check the calamity for possible fire hazards. 

He didn’t even want to think about the smell. 

A few homeless people and drug addicts were dozing on opposite corners of the dirty street with their backs hunched up against the available telephone posts watching their movements with veiled curiosity. Roy locked up the Squad and took the keys. He glanced at his partner. Johnny nodded in agreement. 

There was something about the building that made Roy anxious. Other than the street people, there was absolutely no one around. “Are we sure this is the place?” 

Johnny confirmed the address on the handy-talkie. “This is it.” 

The entrance was just as depressing as the outside. “Huh, looks haunted,” Johnny joked and Roy didn’t disagree. 

“Where is everybody?” Roy paced his partner to the lobby. 

“Well, the elevator’s out.” Johnny quipped. “No surprise there.” He turned for the stairs at a brisk pace. 

Roy followed behind but didn’t say much. There was something about the building and the entrance that tugged at his memory but he wasn’t sure. He just couldn’t remember. 

“Yeah, it’s room 410.” 

Room 410. Roy felt flush with something that he knew he should remember but couldn’t bring up. He felt edgy like he had earlier in the day. The hospital coffee didn’t take away his headache at all. If anything, he felt a thousand times worse. His head throbbed like the jaws-of-life was cracking open his skull. Roy kept moving, determined to catch up and see this rescue through to the end. “We ever have a rescue here before?” 

“Uh, uh,” Johnny said over his shoulder and kept moving. “I think I’d remember this place if we did.” 

When Roy gazed ahead he couldn’t see his partner. Johnny was faster and took the steps two at a time. But Roy’s pace was more careful. He experienced a blinding sense of déjà vu the second he’d stepped into the stairwell and stopped dead in his tracks breathing hard when he rounded the third level. 

This building, this place, he’d definitely been here before. 

“Of course,” He’d been at a rescue in this spot years ago, way before Johnny. He didn’t even know his partner’s name when he was working out of the 41’s. 

Johnny’s head popped up peeking over the railing to search Roy out, nearly an entire flight above him. Gravity tossed his floppy hair forward obscuring his expression. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, coming,” Roy sped up a bit careful not to knock the equipment. He struggled to catch up. The sense of foreboding was stupid. Somebody needed them. Somebody was in trouble. And he was wasting time worrying about something that he didn’t understand. 

_You’re acting like an idiot pally._

The words in his head where his own but they were undeniably mimicking his partner’s voice. Roy swallowed around the lump in his throat and for the first time in his career as a paramedic he wanted to turn around and leave. Just get the heck out and go back down the stairs to safety. 

“Is anybody in here?” Johnny pushed open 410 and peered into the darkness. “It’s the fire department! Did somebody call us?” 

Roy tried to remember if he saw Vince’s motorcycle out front. He didn’t. No ambulance yet either. The dead silence and scattered darkness scared him more than he wanted to admit. 

“I don’t think anyone’s here,” Roy offered, silently hoping the call was a prank but a voice from deep inside the room had other ideas. 

“Help!” 

Johnny took off at a sprint before he could advise caution. Without delay, Roy followed him into the unknown. 

******************************************** 

The musty smell in the room made Roy think of dead things; worms lying on the pavement after a rainstorm, funeral parlors, mudslides. He could see Johnny’s slim form only dimly through the slight haze formed by cracks in the newspaper lacquered windows. Dust swirled around him from head to toe; a cyclone of morbidity trapping him in place. 

“I don’t see anyone.” 

“Me neither.” Roy tried the lights with no luck. 

“But we heard them,” Johnny paused, listened. “You heard somebody right?” 

“I have an idea.” Roy walked to the center window and started peeling off the newspaper. The dust churned viciously making the air much harder to breathe. 

"That's better I guess," Johnny murmured. "I can make out something over there in the corner, against the small bookcase on the floor? Can you see?" Long fingers pointed towards the left and he moved off shouting. "There's someone here...what the..." Johnny fell silent. He disappeared from view and it took Roy a moment to realize that he was kneeling on the floor giving something his full attention. 

“Roy.” 

It wasn’t a question, or a demand. Johnny’s voice sounded subdued, adding to Roy’s growing apprehension. 

“What is it?” He moved to stand by Johnny and his face fell, “Oh my god.” 

Vince lay on the floor in front of them, unconscious, maybe dead and the simple act of seeing him so defeated left both paramedics momentarily stunned. 

Johnny recovered first. “I’ve got a pulse. It’s weak but it’s there.” He felt around Vince’s chest and his hand came away sticky. The smell was undeniable. “He’s bleeding. Damn I wish we had better light.” 

“Let me get on the horn to Rampart. Use your flashlight.” Roy moved the bio-phone close to the available window light and began setting it up. 

“Rampart this is Squad 51 how do you read?” Roy paused to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “Rampart, please respond.” 

_No, this can’t be happening._

“Problem?” Johnny sounded tense. Roy could see his flashlight beam flickering in the darkness. 

“The signal isn’t getting through.” Roy picked up a phone on the nearest table. “And I don’t think we’re going to get a working landline anywhere in here.” He considered briefly. “I can go out in the hallway, see if it’s clearer out there maybe knock on a few doors.” 

“Okay,” Johnny responded but there was no enthusiasm in his voice. “Look Roy, could Vince have yelled to us? Or do you think there’s someone else around here – maybe the person who phoned it in?” 

Roy looked around and felt the hairs on his neck stand up. The crazy feeling that someone was watching him had returned with a vengeance. He didn’t want to leave his partner alone, but Vince was in trouble. There was no other way. “I’ll be back fast.” He set the bio-phone back in the case. “Give me a minute. I’m gonna sit in the doorway and try to make a connection.” 

“Roy?” 

Roy walked and talked at the same time, “Yeah?” 

“Don’t go far. Come back for the handy-talkie if you can’t reach them.” 

The lightness in his voice didn’t fool Roy for a second. “I’ll be right over there.” He moved to the doorway and tried again. “Rampart this is Squad 51 how do you read?” 

“Ugh.” 

Thump 

“Johnny?” Roy raced across the floor dodging obstacles in the near dark.  


Before he had a chance to react to seeing Johnny’s body draped across Vince on the dirty floor something jabbed him hard in the neck, an arm wrapped around his throat, and Roy passed out. 

******************************************** 

“What the hell is going on!?” Roy raged. The last thing he remembered was seeing Johnny down and out, spread across Vince’s legs on the dirty wooden floor of the dilapidated building. He barely had time to feel shock before a sharp pinch in the back of his neck thrust him into blackness. 

Roy had no idea how long he was out but when he finally opened his eyes, his head was aching, his hands were tied behind his back, and a giant man was drooling over his unconscious partner. “Damn it! You shot Vince.” He paused, “Did you drug us?” 

The man shrugged off his questions, “I had to do something so you didn’t struggle when I dragged you both over here,” he answered matter-of-factly. “I didn’t think you’d come along with me willingly.” 

“Where...?” Roy whirled around and closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning. No windows, no swirling dust, and bags of cement and old cans everywhere he looked. They definitely weren’t in Kansas anymore. “You moved us.” It sounded stupid – of course the man had moved them. The dark, musty room was gone replaced by a large room with intermittent patches of shoddy electricity. Instead of the scent of decay, Roy now smelled metal and cardboard. “I need to get some help." He looked around. "What did you do with my equipment?” 

“Some of it’s here,” the man was still noncommittal but something in his tone warned Roy off, “And the rest of it isn’t.” 

“I need to contact someone!” Roy tugged at the rope around his wrists. It was tight but not restrictive. He just might have a teeny bit of leeway in the binding. The man wasn’t really watching him anyway; he seemed far more preoccupied with Johnny. 

“You’re not going to contact anyone Desoto.” The man pointed a gun in his direction. Roy guessed it was probably Vince’s service weapon. “Sit down and behave like a good little paramedic before I decide it’s not worth my time to keep the both of you alive and decide to blow your frigging brains out through the back of your god damned skull!” He moved closer, suddenly hostile, his words getting louder with each progression. Roy hurriedly sat down on a twenty-pound bag of cement and waited. The man smiled, “There, that’s better.” 

Roy examined the scene around him. 

The man had secured Johnny to a side barrier on a slightly raised platform by attaching one side of Vince’s handcuffs to his right wrist and the other side to a short rusty chain on a loop that was somehow embedded deep within the wall. He adjusted the cuff to make the grip tighter and Johnny’s breath caught. The man smiled. It made Roy’s skin crawl to see the open hunger in his eyes. “What are you doing?” 

“Calm down. I only want to look at him.” His fingers tightened around the weapon. “At least for now.” 

“Get away from my partner!” 

The man’s expression darkened. “I’m not training to be a paramedic. You don’t give the orders here, I do.” He knelt by Johnny and stroked his hair almost tenderly. Johnny groaned and the man moved closer. If the drug they were given was around the same dosage, Roy knew it was only a matter of time before his partner woke up, confused and aching, and saw the man slobbering all over him. 

Roy thought of his family. He suddenly wanted to hug his wife and children very badly and tell them how much he loved them. And Johnny, please god, he needed his friend to be okay too. The situation was unlike any he’d ever found himself in before. He didn’t understand what the man was doing or why he was doing it but whatever his reasons, Roy was afraid. 

“Please let us go!” He sounded frantic and breathed in and out slowly. “Just put the gun down, okay?” 

“Don’t make me hurt you Desoto.” 

The words came out without inflection but Roy sensed a deep-seated anger simmering beneath the surface just waiting to explode. It would not be easy to talk sense to this man or to get him to change his mind. 

“Please, just let me check on my partner and see if he’s all right.” Roy kept his voice neutral. The last thing he wanted was for this guy to find him threatening. 

_Yeah, fat chance of that._

Roy judged the man to be around 6’6, thickly built, muscular and probably very strong. He was around 40 or so, Roy guessed, although ages weren’t always his strong suit. “It’ll only take me a second. If you’ll just untie me...” 

The man clearly wasn’t listening. “You’re fucking him, right? He looks like a pretty good lay.” 

“What? No! I’m not.” This ogre wouldn’t be the first person to make that assumption about him and Johnny and he probably wouldn’t be the last. Still, the implication worried him. “He’s my friend. And he’s hurt.” 

“Ed told me you were lovers. He saw you together at the fire house falling all over each other.” 

“Ed? I don’t know who you’re talking about but he’s wrong. Johnny is my friend. He’s like a brother to me. He’s my family.” Roy tried to take it all in. The man was touching Johnny, staring at him like a dinner buffet. He was desperately worried that the man might lose all sense of reason, cross the line and hurt his friend. 

“You’re a liar Desoto. He told me all about you and your partner. Together you destroyed Ed Marlowe’s life.” 

Roy froze at the casual mention of the familiar name. “What does Ed Marlowe have to do with this?” 

“Ed Marlowe has everything to do with this.” The man unzipped Johnny’s jacket and felt inside. “Gage turned you against Ed. You were his friend. You saved lives together. That’s why I lured you into that filthy building. You and Ed rescued people there once.” 

Roy’s head spun. “No, Johnny didn’t turn me against anyone. Ed is still my friend. He had a good chance to join the paramedics. He’s very smart. But he kept confusing his past as a medic in Vietnam with the new job. We need to listen to orders from the doctors so we can treat our patients but he wouldn’t do that.” 

“Ed told me that you chose this whore over him.” The man brushed back Johnny’s hair and examined the bruise on his forehead. “Is this from the accident this morning?” 

Roy swallowed, “Yes, it is.” 

“I didn’t expect that woman to die.” A shadow crossed the man’s face. 

Roy tensed, “What did you say?” 

“When I messed with her rental I thought she’d only get hurt. I didn’t know the back was overloaded. But then the dumb bitch went and hit someone else and killed them anyway so I guess it didn’t matter in the end that she died too.” 

“Are you saying you played a hand in what happened to those people?” It didn’t make any sense. The man had killed two people and kidnapped him and Johnny. It was unbelievable to envision that one person had wrought so much random pain and damage on a whim. 

“I only wanted you to see the lighthouse.” 

In seconds, everything clicked. This morning’s accident happened on the same cliff near the lighthouse where he responded with Johnny to a call about a fallen hiker when Ed Marlowe was their trainee. 

“Ed spoke of that cliff rescue all the time. He told me over and over about how you embarrassed him with the doctor about that guy’s arm.” The man’s large fingers stroked Johnny’s lips a few times, lingering there, waiting, before pushing inside his mouth and rubbing at his tongue, pressing in deeper until Johnny licked his finger innocently and the man moaned. 

The sound hit Roy like a ton of bricks. 

"Hey! Stop it!" 

"What's the matter Desoto? Don't want me taking something that's yours?" He sneered and stroked the inside of Johnny's thigh. “He’s nice and slim. Long legs. I’m going to have a great time with him.” 

Roy blanched. He couldn’t tell how seriously Johnny was injured, Vince might be dead and this monster was playing some kind of sick game. He regrouped and tried again, “Look that was an accident. You didn’t mean for her to die or to kill anyone. But this right here, if Johnny dies, if the policeman dies, that’s murder.” Roy’s voice was calm but the man didn’t even allow him a glance. His eyes drilled into Johnny’s head like laser beams. It was a singularly discomforting feeling. 

“Please.” Roy attempted again. 

“I gave your partner a bigger dose so it might take him a while to wake up.” The man smiled, “Relax Desoto. I think you’ll enjoy the show.” He picked up Johnny’s chained wrist and examined it closely. Roy could see a small slide of blood running down Johnny’s arm under the sleeve of his coat. 

Roy’s blood turned to ice. “I swear to god if you hurt him!” He stood shakily on his feet and moved quickly toward his friend. “Stop touching him. Leave him alone!” 

The man scarcely reacted. He twisted the gun, aimed and fired. 

Blackness and pain overtook him and Roy saw stars. 

******************************************** 

The lack of sound was troubling. 

Johnny knew something was wrong when the annoying beep of the Rampart heart monitor failed to ooze into his brain and help lull him back to consciousness. If he wasn’t lying safe in a hospital bed then that meant he was probably still at the scene of the fire, injured, alone and waiting for rescue. Or maybe he was already dead. 

Neither idea was very encouraging. 

He tried to move but an ache in his head warned him off and so Johnny stayed in place with his eyes closed and steadied his breathing, poised on the verge of wakefulness, but not yet ready to make the final leap. It was a routine he’d used many times in the past to calm himself down and take the edge off his fear. 

Sometimes it worked; sometimes it didn’t. 

“Wakey-wakey Fireman.” 

The rough slap took him by surprise and Johnny jumped up with a start. He stumbled to his feet, walked forward and promptly fell flat his face. 

“What the…” 

He stared flabbergasted at the handcuff on his right wrist and followed the attached chain to a metal ring in the center of a grey cement wall. He had just enough room to recline, stand up and probably walk two or three feet forward or backward. 

The man standing in front of him was huge. He stood casually, unconcerned, eyeing Johnny in a way that he recognized but didn’t want to think about, sort of like an exhibit at a county fair; interesting, unique, but probably not gonna win the blue ribbon. 

What the hell is going on? 

Johnny sputtered. “Who are you? What is this?” He didn’t see Roy anywhere. “Where’s my partner?” He pulled on the chain again but it was useless. The metal cuff was clipped tight to his thin wrist, biting into his flesh with every movement. 

The man licked his lips and paraded around Johnny, examining him from all angles, not close enough to touch, but more than close enough to make the paramedic uncomfortable. 

“Take your jacket off.” 

“Tell me where Roy is.” 

“Take your jacket off NOW!” 

Johnny jumped and then held up his arm. “Look, I can’t take my jacket off when I’m stuck on this chain.” 

The man smiled a dark, humorless grin and held up a small pair of scissors. Johnny’s hand went immediately to his empty back pocket. The man must have taken his scissors while he was unconscious. “I think those are mine,” he kept his voice neutral and tried not to show fear which was really sort of ridiculous, considering. 

“Cut it,” He threw the scissors to Johnny. 

“I’m not going to cut my jacket!” The man stepped forward and Johnny stepped back, suddenly wary. His head throbbed. He felt dizzy. The room was dimly lit and he couldn’t see his partner anywhere. The last time he saw him, Roy was trying to use the bio-phone in a more open location so they could get a signal to contact Rampart and help Vince. 

Johnny swallowed. If this man hurt Vince, then he could have also hurt Roy. He had to think fast. Vince was injured. Roy was missing. And some scary jackass had him chained up in a gray windowless room just like every doomed chic in one of Chet Kelly’s horror flicks. 

“Cut the damn thing now.” The man appraised Johnny up and down. Even fully dressed he felt strangely exposed. “If I have to come over there and rip it off, you’re not going to like what I do to you.” 

Johnny managed with some difficulty to slit his uniform jacket at the seam and remove it from the chain by slicing down the sleeve length. He dropped the jacket on the floor and waited. The man was still gaping at him. “Show me my partner.” 

“Now remove your shoes and socks.” 

Johnny hesitated, “What for?” 

The man said, “Please,” with no nuance in his voice whatsoever. 

Johnny leaned against the wall and untied his shoes. He couldn’t stop his fingers from shaking. He removed one shoe, then the next, doing his best to stay balanced and not cut his wrist on the unyielding handcuff. 

“Throw them here along with the scissors.” The man gestured to his stocking covered feet and smirked. “You’re not finished yet.” 

Johnny dropped his shoes off the edge of the platform and watched the man kick them out of the way in two separate directions. They quickly blended into the shadows and hidden corners of the eerily darkened room. He couldn't see them and it would probably take him a hell of a long time to find them again if he needed to. He removed his socks quickly. He put the scissors on top of his socks, tossed them back against the wall and studied the man cautiously. 

“Very good Fireman.” 

The dampness hugged his body tight and Johnny shivered. If the man shot Vince, why wait around to hurt him and Roy? It didn’t make any sense. 

“Over here,” The man pushed back some boxes and turned up the lights a bit forcing Johnny to squint and blink a few times to correct his vision. When his eyes finally adjusted, he saw Roy lying on the floor facedown with a pool of blood around his head, pale and unmoving. To his right, approximately five feet away in another heap, lay Vince. 

“Roy!” 

“He’s alive.” His partner groaned when the man nudged his shoulder, “For now anyway.” 

"What did you do to him?” 

The man removed a gun from his jacket and made sure Johnny saw it. He waved it back and forth a few times and pointed the weapon at Roy before bringing it around full circle to Johnny and pretending to fire. 

Johnny flinched. 

“Don’t worry Fireman I have other plans for you.” 

Johnny watched him throw the gun across the room with a flourish. He tried to follow where it landed but the corresponding clunk gave nothing away. The room was too poorly lit and cluttered with boxes and garbage for him to judge with any degree of accuracy where the piece had ended up. 

“I don’t need the cop’s gun to keep you in line Gage. I have something much better right…over…there.” He gestured toward Roy and took a step forward. 

Johnny paled. "Get this damn thing off of me!" He jerked on the cuff, straining against the bindings until the skin on his wrist tore open. He ignored the blood dripping down his arm and pulled again, harder this time, urgently trying to free himself and dislodge the metal hook from the cement wall. No matter how hard Johnny tried he wasn’t strong enough to break free and he was only shredding his wrist up in the process. The man had him chained to the wall like an animal effectively rendering him useless to both Roy and Vince. 

“Desoto’s alive. That should be enough for you.” The man seemed amused by Johnny's obvious distress. He didn't show an ounce of remorse for what he'd done. If anything, the man appeared happy and maybe even a little bit excited by his actions. 

Johnny found both ideas terrifying. 

“You need to free me.” He held his injured wrist gently away from his body and breathed in and out a few times to try and block out the pain. He glanced at the damage. It was bad. A quick flash of bone made him gag and he quickly moved to hide the torn flesh under his other arm. Johnny wished he had something to wrap around the cut. A cushion of any kind would work. He’d even settle for his discarded sock. Anything really, to stop the wound from expanding and getting worse. He looked again and swallowed when he saw the metal cuff sliding under his skin. 

“What did you do?” 

“Huh?” 

The man was suddenly upon him. He squeezed Johnny’s face hard enough to make his eyes water. “You are not allowed to hurt yourself. Never, ever do that again. Only I can hurt you! Do you understand?" 

Johnny felt himself propelled backward with astonishing force and body slammed into the concrete wall. The man pounded him again, and didn’t back away, effectively trapping Johnny between a rock and a hard place. 

He couldn’t move forward and he couldn’t move back. A steady heat from the man’s groin pulsed against his hip and Johnny shuddered when he realized that his captor was fully aroused. “No, come on man, don’t do this.” 

He pushed but the man wouldn’t budge. Johnny struck out with everything he had and kneed the man in the groin. His reward was a punch to the stomach so rock-hard it sent him reeling. He coughed and stumbled, trying desperately to catch his breath as the pain expanded throughout his body. His vision darkened but he didn’t black out. Johnny curled on his side, stretched the chain to its limits and waited for the pain to subside. He couldn’t concentrate on anything else except the steady hurt growing inside him, burning a path through his belly like wildfire. 

“Ugh!” 

He struggled to breathe and clawed at the ground, scraping his fingernails raw while the man stared at him from above, watching him suffer. 

“Don't make me do that again." The man lowered himself to the floor and sat with his arms folded staring at Johnny. Up close he was enormous; all hard muscle and thick brutish hands. 

“Noooo…’ Johnny turned away and brushed his face against the cold floor. If he passed out now, he feared the man would kill Roy and he’d never see his friend alive again. He bit the inside of his mouth and rode out a crushing wave of pain. 

"I need you to behave for me." 

The man placed his fist into the small of Johnny’s back and massaged slowly up and down his spine. Johnny closed his eyes and started to drift. If he obeyed the man, then maybe, just maybe, the bastard would stop touching him. 

“Open your eyes Fireman,” The man maneuvered his body so that they were lying cheek to cheek. Johnny hated the musky smell of him. He screwed his eyes shut tighter and willed the man to go away. 

He imagined himself sitting back at the station with Roy complaining about his dinner being cold and drinking hot coffee with Engine 51: Mike, stoic, smart, and one of the best engineers in the department even if Johnny still hadn’t quite forgiven him for the ‘big deal’ crack he made last year; Marco, funny and charming, a loyal friend and one hell of a fireman; Cap who Johnny looked up to more than his own father as a mentor and friend and finally, good old Chet Kelly. He thought of Chet’s veiled concern for him earlier in the day after the deadly rescue and had to fight back tears. 

The Phantom sure did drive him wacky with all his ill-timed pranks and innuendos but he meant the world to Johnny and he was pretty sure that Chet felt the same way about him. Together they all made for an incredible team. These men were his family and he loved them. Johnny couldn’t imagine not seeing any of them ever again. 

“Look at me,” The man whispered and waited, “Come on.” 

Johnny opened his eyes and stared. He had no choice but to see this nightmare through to the end. 

“This is your fault.” The man stood carefully, each step perfectly timed to make Johnny fearful of what he’d do next. He scooped Roy up by the scruff of his neck. His partner’s blue shirt was hanging out of his pants and his uniform jacket was covered in a white clingy powder. Blood caked across Roy’s forehead, trailing through his hairline and painting the side of his face and uniform shirt in a dark scarlet streak. His arms were tied behind his back and his legs were hanging limp and twisted. 

Johnny sucked in a deep, painful breath and gasped, “Roy!” 

His partner stared at him with puzzled, terror filled blue eyes and Johnny froze. He didn’t have a clue what was going on or why the man was torturing them. 

“Do you see who’s in control here?” The man dropped Roy and kicked him hard. “Do you?” Two kicks later and Roy stopped moving. 

“Stop hurting him!” Johnny struggled to catch his breath. “Don’t…please don’t!” 

Roy was special. He understood Johnny when no one else bothered to find out what made him tick, ignored his eccentricities when people thought he was batty and enjoyed his company for fishing and family barbecues. Roy was honest and intelligent and just about the kindest person in the world. He was slow to anger, and a peacekeeper, someone who calmed Johnny down when his temper was in overdrive with either a well thought out word or an offer of coffee. Johnny respected him from the moment they met and trusted him more than he’d ever trusted anyone before in his life. In nearly four years, his faith in his friend had never wavered. 

“Why…are you…doing this?” 

The man sat alongside Johnny and resumed touching him. The stroke was soft and controlling. It reminded Johnny of a big cat tormenting its prey before the kill and although the man did not use force somehow Johnny knew it would be impossible for him to move away. 

The man would never allow it. 

“Ed Marlowe told me you’d do anything for your partner.” The man’s hatred was tangible. “He was friends with Desoto at 41’s until you turned his friend against him.” 

“Marlowe?” 

“They worked together saving people before you lured Desoto away. Ed told me the building on Sepulveda was the scene of an amazing fire and rescue.” His voice darkened, “You talked Desoto into kicking Ed out of the paramedic program because you were jealous of him.” 

“You've got it wrong.” The soft caress continued. Johnny thought he was losing his mind. 

“Ed saved my life in Nam you bastard! He deserved better than what you did to him! You hated Ed Marlowe and your lover listened to your lies!” 

“What? No!” Johnny’s head spun viciously. “Roy's not my lover.” 

The man pulled him closer and Johnny tried to edge away. His wrist jarred painfully against the hard floor. “Hey…” he managed before the larger man engulfed him. Despite everything he’d endured, the kiss still took him by surprise. 

"Stop...” 

The second kiss was harder and grittier. Rough lips pried his mouth apart in a parody of intimacy that left him weak and a display of control that terrified him. The man licked across his teeth and flattened his tongue forcing his way in deeper until Johnny started to choke. 

He pushed against the man’s chest but couldn’t move him. The man was as solid as a brick wall. Johnny remembered hearing about a past rescue during a hold-up where an elderly shop keeper took down a bigger bad guy with one swift flip. 

He attempted the maneuver but the man only laughed. Incensed, Johnny smacked the man’s face with the bottom of his palm hard enough to at least shock him. “Get the hell away from me.” 

“It seems like you have some fight left after all.” 

The man grabbed his arm and crushed the white bandage until the threads Dr. Early had so meticulously stitched into his skin split open. He didn’t stop squeezing until the bandage was soaked red with blood. Johnny doubled over and leaned into his adversary’s stocky body for support. Chet’s leftover stew warbled hot in his belly. It was only a matter of time before he puked it back up. The man pulled him closer and Johnny felt sick. 

“Let us go…” 

The more he tried to squirm away from the man’s attentions the more trapped Johnny became. The man’s breath was hot like flame upon his neck. His body was shuffled up and back against the cement wall, his arms forced down along his sides. The man was bigger and stronger than he was, and at the moment, much healthier too. Johnny panted, exhausted at the exertion, and allowed himself to be held. 

“You’re making this difficult for the both of us Gage.” Large fingers tangled in his hair and slammed Johnny’s face against the hard concrete, once, then again. "I’ll give you an easy choice. Let me enjoy you for a while and in return I’ll let Desoto live." 

Johnny froze. It was said so matter-of-factly he had to replay it again in his head. 

"You want… to enjoy me." His body throbbed. His brain felt like mush. Whatever the man used to knock him out with earlier was still whirling around in his system. 

“Yes,” the man continued to hold him in place not even trying to hide the want in his eyes. 

“And in return you won’t hurt Roy,” Johnny swallowed. The man was waiting for him to make the next move and either to deny him what he wanted or agree to it. He looked at his friend crumpled up on the floor, unconscious and bleeding and struggled to find a way out of his nightmare. 

Johnny wasn’t an idiot. He knew what ‘enjoy’ meant but he wasn’t going to make it easy. He shuddered. “What exactly are you asking me?” 

“I don’t want you to fight me Gage. I don’t want you to scream.” He smiled, “I just want you to look into my eyes, open your mouth and spread those long legs. Can you do that for me?” The man puffed warm air along the angled boundary of Johnny’s jaw. 

Johnny whispered, “I don’t want to,” and the man smiled again. 

“I wouldn’t want you half as badly if you did.” He nuzzled Johnny’s ear and hissed, “I want you to respond to me as if I were Desoto.” 

“He’s my friend…” Johnny’s face burned. He wasn’t sleeping with Roy. And on some level this bastard knew it. He thought of his partner’s gentle smile and never-ending patience. He could certainly do a lot worse than having him for a lover. Roy was a good man, a gentle man. He’d never abuse anyone the way this bastard was hurting him. 

“You heard me.” Sharp teeth nibbled his neck and pierced through his skin. Johnny groaned in agony. He tasted blood on the next kiss. He wanted to fight back, and to flee, but how? The man was twice his size and he wasn’t stupid. He knew Johnny would never abandon his partner. 

“Moan for me whore.” 

The man’s dark eyes bore into his skull and Johnny couldn’t look away. He made one final attempt to try and reason with the violent man who held his partner’s life in his hands. 

“Roy needs my help…and Vince, they need…” 

“I know what they need. And I know what you need.” 

The teeth were back on his neck again, sucking him, slurping. Eager hands started to rub his abdomen in delicate circles, over and over, barely a tickle really, before pressing deep inside his belly button. Johnny swallowed a moan and eked out a pathetic sound he didn’t think he’d ever made before in his life. 

“Is that a yes Gage?” The man unbuttoned the top button on Johnny’s uniform shirt, his fingers deliberate and eager. “I hope it’s a yes.” 

Johnny tried to ignore the blood under the fingernails slowly undressing him. He wondered wearily if it was Vince’s blood or Roy’s or even his own. “You want me say it.” 

“It’s the most important thing in the world to me.” He spared a glance at Roy, and smiled, “And to Desoto.” 

Johnny cringed when the last button on his uniform came undone. The man pulled the blue shirt away from his shoulders and tore into it with the scissors. Johnny heard his badge ‘clink’ when it hit the cement floor. This was real. This was happening. And there was no way he could think of to stop it. 

“You think I won’t kill him? I’ve already killed people today. Your partner would give me the most satisfaction of all.” 

Johnny was steadfast. “Roy never hurt anybody. He helps people. He’s a paramedic. He saves lives.” 

“Desoto hurt my friend. He hurt the man who gave me back my life. He destroyed him!” 

“No, you’re wrong…Ed Marlowe destroyed his own life.” The blow across Johnny’s jaw rattled his teeth. “He was arrogant…” The man shook him hard and Johnny shut up. It was getting difficult to find a part of his body that wasn’t aching. 

“I’ve been patient with you. I’ve given you a chance to save Desoto’s life but you’re messing with me. You’re trying to get inside my head!” The man grabbed at his t-shirt and whispered roughly, “Your partner is a dead man.” 

“No! Don’t kill him! Please don’t kill him!” 

Johnny wondered when he and Roy would be found, and when Captain Stanley, Rampart, anybody, would realize they weren’t at a rescue but instead needed rescuing themselves. 

******************************************** 

Mike Stoker wasn’t having a lot of luck mentally willing the phone on the wall to ring. The Engineer thought about the old axiom concerning a watched pot never boiling and wondered whether the accuracy of that statement also applied to other appliances. He turned away and sighed. 

He was anxious about his friends. 

Gage and Desoto responded to a call and then simply disappeared from the face of the earth. The police had no leads, no sightings and no phone calls. The entire situation was making his head spin. 

The single update they received from the LAPD had been a doozy. 

The police found blood splotches on the floor of apartment 410 at the scene but no sign of the two missing men. Fresh blood meant an injury, and if there wasn’t a victim present, then there was a good chance the blood belonged to either Johnny or Roy. 

At first Stoker suspected that the drugs the paramedics carried in the side compartment of the Squad were somehow to blame. It was just basic stuff, not much really, but to an addict even a small number of drugs had value. The last address Gage and Desoto responded to wasn’t exactly in a safe part of town. Still, they’d never had any trouble before so he didn't want to panic needlessly. 

As the hours wore on with no contact from his friends, Stoker started to fear the worst. And he knew he wasn’t the only one. 

“Did you hear any news on the guys?” Marco popped his head around the corner breathlessly. When Mike shook his head no, Marco frowned, “Where the hell could they be?” 

“I don’t know but I’m starting to worry now big time. It’s been over 6 hours. They never checked in with command or the hospital.” 

Marco considered, “Do you think maybe the drugs in the Squad had anything to do with it?” 

Stoker sighed again. The drug angle was obviously a thought that many of the men were having. He remembered discussing the threat of an ambush disguised as a rescue call over coffee with Johnny and could still recall their conversation with almost perfect clarity. 

_“We need those drugs to help our patients so we have to take them with us.” Johnny had said thoughtfully. “Besides, there are bigger scores out there. We’re not worth an addict’s time.”_

_Stoker had argued with him, saying that the paramedics were an easily recognizable target now that didn’t exist a few years ago, and the danger was real but Johnny merely offered him a carefree smile and a flippant response. Just as he was starting to think that his young friend never took anything seriously Johnny squeezed his shoulder._

_“If someone really wants those drugs Mike they’re gonna get them. It doesn’t do me or Roy any good to worry about something that we can’t control. We’re always on the alert but we can’t let a possible threat cripple us.”_

Stoker realized then that Gage not only understood the very real dangers involved but that he and Desoto had already actively discussed them. He never sold his friend short again. 

Well, except for that one time. 

Just thinking about the shocked look on Johnny’s expressive face when Mike responded, “big deal” to his notable tale of highway heroics was enough to make Stoker smile. Chet was absolutely right. The young paramedic really was an easy mark. 

He exhaled deeply and said a silent prayer that they’d receive word soon. It was unsettling not to have their Squad around and he missed Johnny and Roy’s constant bizarre patter of conversation. To a quiet guy like Stoker, that kind of stuff made all the difference in the world. 

When the phone finally rang, Stoker jumped to his feet and waited while Cap spoke to the police. By the look on his superior’s face the news wasn’t even close to what any of them wanted to hear. He glanced at Marco and waited on his Captain. 

“Okay, thank you Lieutenant. Please keep us informed.” Stanley hung up the phone and rubbed his face tiredly, “Chet can you join us in here pal?” 

When Engine 51 gathered around him Stanley delivered the Lieutenant’s message. 

“The police found the Squad abandoned in a junkyard across town. They’re going to check out the building the guys responded to again and dust for prints. Maybe this time they’ll find…” 

The klaxons erupted and the conversation ended but nothing more really needed to be said. Whatever hopes he’d been holding onto for Johnny and Roy’s safe return fell like a rock in the pit of his stomach. He knew the paramedics would never willingly abandon their beloved Squad. 

Stoker schooled his expression and raced for the Engine. 

******************************************** 

“You bastard! Just leave him alone!” 

The man ignored Gage and flipped Desoto onto his back. The paramedic’s red hair was coated with darkened blood. He reminded the man of a favorite uncle he had when he was a boy who used to take him fishing every week and buy him penny candy at the general store before he accidentally drowned in the lake. That remembrance stopped him cold. It hadn't entirely been an accident. 

Gage’s words echoed in his head, “Roy never hurt anyone.” 

He wrapped his large hands around the paramedic’s neck and started to press. He would kill him now and then take Gage. It wouldn’t be as sweet as making him submit willingly but it would still be something. When he was tired of him, he’d kill Gage too, and tell Ed Marlowe what he’d done for him. Maybe show him their uniformed bodies as proof. He frowned remembering the torn blue shirt he’d ripped from Gage’s shoulders. Maybe Ed could try out for the paramedics again and this time, without Gage and Desoto standing in his way, he’d succeed. He imagined his friend driving the little red fire truck and smiled. It would happen. It had to happen. 

“Stop, let him go! He has a wife, he has kids. Please!” 

He looked at Gage and loosened the hold on his partner. It might be fun to see him beg for Desoto’s life before squashing it out before his eyes. 

Gage was pulling against the metal cuff with all his might, fighting to get to his friend. It was hopeless, the man knew, he wasn’t strong enough to escape. He was only weakening himself in the process. The man watched him struggle for a moment. Gage looked frantic, desperate even, and the idea that he was terrified for Desoto’s life made the man happy. 

“I told you I’d kill him.” 

“I won’t fight you.” Gage swallowed hard and the man followed his Adam’s apple down the tense lines on his elegant neck from his angled jaw to his starkly present collar bones. He imagined biting that throat again, kissing him, making Gage whimper through his fear. The slender body aroused him. The paramedic really was a beauty. 

The idea was tempting but still, he’d made his decision. 

“It’s too late for that Gage.” His hands returned to Desoto’s neck and Gage howled in anger. The sound was pleasurable. He imagined hearing it again later when he pushed into the dark-haired man’s body. 

“I’m saying yes you bastard, yes, yes, yes!” Gage screamed, begging, “Enjoy me however you want, but please stop hurting him. You can have me! I’m not gonna fight you. I’ll do whatever you want me to do, just don’t kill him!” 

The paramedic was shaking now, crying, horrified of the power the man held over him and his partner. In a way, it made him even more desirable. 

He gazed down at Desoto and was startled to see the blue eyes open again, watching everything, weak as a kitten but alert and judging. 

He definitely resembled his uncle now. 

The man murmured, “Gage wants me to keep you alive,” before dropping him back on the floor. “It seems I can’t deny him anything.” 

******************************************** 

Roy fought through the fog and the pain and struggled to open his eyes. The world seemed blurry and dark and his head hurt like the dickens. But why? What could have happened to him…? He struggled to find the answers. He was on a call. He must have fallen through a weak floor board and hit his head on something. Of all the ways to get injured during a blaze, plummeting into an unknown inferno below his feet was one of Roy’s biggest fears. 

He heard people talking then, agitated and low. The words scared him. He heard his partner screaming. Johnny sounded frantic, begging, pleading. He heard his name. Johnny was in trouble and Roy had to help him. He could still breathe so maybe the fire wasn’t too bad yet. At least it was oxygen and not smoke he was taking into his lungs. Roy inhaled again, pure clean air, and continued his race back to consciousness. 

When he finally forced his eyes open again he saw a man staring down at him. 

And suddenly Roy remembered everything. 

Johnny! 

“Gage wants me to keep you alive. It seems I can’t deny him anything.” 

The man slammed him to the floor and Roy played dead. His world was spinning like a tornado. His head throbbed. His throat was aching and sore. He blinked and opened his eyes, slowly trying to steady the images his brain was forcing him to process at an alarming rate. 

Vince was down. Roy wasn’t sure what condition he was in but by the looks of it the fallen officer wasn’t going to be much help. There was only one way to save everyone and that was for Roy to save himself. He inched his way closer to the patrolman, remembering the gun in his pant leg he’d seen earlier at the accident. 

_Could that have happened only just this morning?_

Roy worked steadily at the binding on his wrists little by little until they were loose enough for him to slip his hands through. He moved slowly, determined not to raise any alarms. If the man heard him and turned around his plan would fail. He prayed that Johnny didn’t look in his direction either because he’d give it away in a heartbeat. His partner had the worst poker face in all of LA County. 

He allowed himself a glance at his friend and felt sick. The big man was on top of him, moving him, holding his arms down and doing things to Johnny that he didn’t want to see. If Roy could just reach the gun in time and get a shot off, they might just have a chance. Roy wondered what time it was and how long they’d been missing. He wished the man hadn’t taken his watch. Surely someone would see the Squad outside the building and go inside to investigate. 

“Ahh...ahh..." 

Johnny’s breathing was hard and ragged. Roy heard each gasp from halfway across the room. The man stretched his arms up above his head and buried his face against Johnny's stomach. His partner’s willowy body was barely visible beneath his assailant's much larger bulk. 

“You’re mine Gage. I’m going to take you so rough. I’m going to fuck the life out of you until you scream for me.” 

Johnny moaned when the man spread his legs apart and started moving between them. His body arched high off the cement floor like an errant bowstring; lean and perfect and yet totally out of control. Roy watched Johnny's head flip rapidly from side to side; his eyes open wide in shock and confusion. The man wrapped his hands around Johnny’s slender hips and pulled him tight against his body cupping Johnny’s buttocks and forcing him to wrap his legs around the man’s broad waist. 

“I’m going to treat you like the whore you are.” 

The man pounded Johnny backward until the chain attached to his wrist wouldn’t allow his battered body to move back any further. Johnny struggled beneath the man and then fell limp. 

“Is this how you seduced Desoto?” 

“N…n…no…” Johnny stuttered. 

Roy looked away, breathing hard. He picked up his pace. The echo of a slap stopped him cold. 

“You promised me you’d behave. We had a deal Gage; your body for your friend’s life. Don't make me regret my decision.” 

“Just do it,” Johnny’s voice sounded numb. 

“Oh no, not yet. I want to take my time with you.” 

The man grabbed Johnny by his hair and kissed him roughly. Johnny didn’t resist. The man kissed down his neck, nibbling at his collarbone before moving his hand under Johnny’s t-shirt and squeezing his nipple rough enough to make him gasp. His partner’s right arm was pulled high and unbending, away from his body, held securely in place by Vince’s handcuffs. His partner’s free hand was clasped tightly in a fist. The bandage Dr. Early placed on his arm after the morning’s failed rescue attempt was now seeped red with blood. Roy was infuriated to think that someone would hurt his friend so casually. 

Vince was farther away than he thought or maybe Roy’s double vision was at fault. Either way, he knew if he didn’t get the gun soon Johnny would be in serious trouble. He wouldn’t allow himself to think about what Johnny was offering the man in order to save his life. What kind of a monster would make such a demand? And why did it have to be Johnny? 

His partner was kind when people were nasty and respectful even when he was seriously pissed off. He smiled freely and eagerly and would never knowingly cause harm to anyone. And while Johnny was attractive he was not very lucky in relationships – at least not in the ones that lasted for more than a week. It was impossible to settle down with one person when you had an analytical, obsessive and complex personality like Johnny’s. He was always finding fault in himself and by extension, in others. That his partner was a perfectionist made him a fine paramedic. But it was his ability to empathize with his victims and his steadfast desire to help them no matter the circumstance that made him a brilliant one. 

_Just a couple more feet…_

Johnny’s t-shirt was tugged up exposing his taut midriff and belly. His knees were bent with his bare feet on the ground and his legs were now settled around the man’s larger frame. Even with the distance Roy could see his friend’s body trembling. When the man’s fingers hovered over Johnny’s waist the shaking increased but he didn’t say a word or make a move to stop the man from unbuttoning his pants. 

“I’m going to enjoy you Fireman.” The man’s voice was chilling. He bent his face close to Johnny’s, “Are you excited?” A hard slap followed, then another, followed by a barely audible, “Yeah”. 

Roy blinked sweat from his eyes and kept moving. The floor was slippery with blood. He had to get the gun. There was no other choice. He couldn’t let this bastard hurt his friend any more than he already had. He stretched his arm until his muscles ached and felt around for the weapon. His head was pounding but he ignored the pain. He wouldn’t let Johnny down. 

Roy panicked thinking maybe the man removed the gun and his search was all in vain. He couldn’t see the outline anymore under Vince’s clothing. If that was the case, then his entire plan was ruined. His hands rummaged quietly, searching, hoping and ultimately finding the weapon right where he remembered seeing it. 

Roy rolled Vince’s pants up and tried to slip the weapon out of the small leather holster. Blood dripped onto his fingers making it difficult to get a grip. Just when he thought he had pulled the plan off, the gun fell out of his hands and smacked the cement floor. The resounding clatter nearly stopped Roy’s heart. 

“What are you doing?” 

The man shoved Johnny aside and spun around in his direction. Roy stumbled once more for the weapon. He couldn’t hold onto it. “Shit.” Roy grabbed the handle but it was too late, the man was nearly on top of him. 

He’d never get a shot off in time. 

“Roy! Over here!” 

Johnny was up on his feet, brown eyes blazing. He looked unsteady but determined and Roy didn’t hesitate. He tossed the gun to his partner and somehow, miraculously, Johnny caught it. The man switched direction and kept moving only his friend was the target now. 

“You bastard,” the man tossed back his head and screamed and Roy’s fear level etched up a notch to full blown terror. The man grabbed Johnny’s head and tried to smash him back into the wall but his grip wasn’t perfect. Johnny slid out of the way and leaned as far back as the cuff and extended chain would allow. 

Roy’s world started moving in slow motion. His eyes never wavered from his partner’s face. 

“Don’t move…” When Johnny spoke again, his voice was oddly calm. “Please don’t make me shoot you.” 

Roy wondered how Johnny could sound so composed. There was a part of his friend that Roy thought he might never fully understand. A steely determination and will to survive that sometimes left him speechless. 

“I’ll fucking kill you!” the man screamed, his voice an endless roar inside Roy’s head. 

_Bam!_

The man grabbed at Johnny and clung to his legs pulling at him and trying to drag him down and regain some sort of twisted advantage. Johnny remained still, frozen in place, until the man slid away and fell to the ground bellowing in pain. He tried once to get up but couldn’t quite make it. He struck his head hard on the side of the cement riser just below Johnny’s feet. Roy saw the blossoming crimson stain moving across the man’s clothing and for the first time in hours he allowed himself to feel hopeful. 

“Well…played….” The man croaked out the final word, “Fireman.” 

Johnny looked about ready to fade. He slid to the ground and heaved up the contents of his stomach still holding fast to the gun in his hand. His eyes found Roy’s and he nodded weakly. 

“Let me get those cuffs off.” 

“Kay.” was all Johnny managed. 

Roy searched Vince’s pockets for the key without success. “It’s not in his pockets!” he screamed hoarsely but Johnny was shaking his head. 

“Vince doesn’t have it Roy. He does.” Johnny gestured to the man on the floor. Roy half walked, half crawled over to the man’s body and jumped when he made a slow, calculated move to swipe at Roy’s head. 

Roy fumbled through the man’s pockets until he found the key. “I got it.” 

“Roy…” Johnny murmured. 

“Hey,” he sat by Johnny and unhooked his damaged wrist carefully from the handcuff. He took note of the bruising on his friend’s face and body but said nothing. Roy switched the cuff to the man’s arm and jumped back, making sure to tighten up the chain length. 

“He’s still alive,” Johnny said. He stood up shakily, pitched the small gun away in disgust, and kept moving. “I shot him Roy.” 

“You didn’t have a choice.” Roy turned and saw his partner walking unsteadily toward their scattered equipment. He dragged the oxygen over and placed it on the man’s face. 

“Just help Vince,” Johnny said mindlessly and Roy didn’t argue. Johnny shot the man and Johnny was going to fix him. Once his friend put his mind to something there was no turning it around. 

But who’s gonna help you partner, Roy thought. He did his best to patch up Vince. He untied his wrists and arranged Vince’s arms gently. The bullet wound in his side looked bad but it wasn’t the worst thing Roy had ever seen and it had already stopped bleeding. The fact that he hadn’t regained consciousness was a much bigger concern. 

Roy considered that the man might have drugged Vince also, and if so, there was a possibility that the drugs were partly responsible for his slow recovery. He wondered how the man had gotten control of Vince’s gun in the first place and where the gun was right now. He noticed the bio-phone sitting alongside the empty drug box and figured he’d give it a try. He popped open the inside and found a jumble of cut wires. 

“So much for that idea.” 

Across the room, Johnny was helping the man, ripping open his shirt and applying a bandage. He worked meticulously, soundlessly, his actions almost robotic in nature. The man watched his partner’s every move, shameless and disgusting right up to the last. 

Roy got to his feet and started to fall. He grabbed the wall for support and closed his eyes. 

“Roy?” 

Johnny was at his side in a heartbeat. Roy couldn’t believe he was able to move so damn fast after everything he’d just been through. 

“Just sit down will ya?” Johnny worried, “Before you fall down.” 

The tone of his voice was pure Johnny and for that Roy was grateful. “Yeah, okay.” 

“You’re a wreck.” Johnny busied himself cleaning Roy’s head, removing dried blood and wrapping it gently. He was strangely silent for Johnny, but he was alive, and at the moment that was all Roy wanted. “I’m pretty sure you have a concussion, and you’re gonna probably need some stitches too.” He tapped Roy’s face gently. “Stay awake okay partner? These bruises around your neck - when they see them at Rampart...” 

“You don’t look so good yourself,” Roy interrupted but he couldn’t hold back a weak smile. “The bullet just grazed me Johnny. There’s lots of blood and I have a pretty bad headache but I think I’m good.” 

Johnny’s hands were a blur of activity scampering over Roy’s neck, taking his pulse and blood pressure and pressing his kidneys delicately. His partner was always in motion so it wasn’t that unusual, but experiencing the frenzy now, combined with his drastically subdued demeanor was more than a little unsettling. 

“Hey,” Roy’s voice cracked. “It’s over.” He held Johnny’s hands gently and felt him tremble. “We’re both okay.” 

Johnny pulled away from Roy and wrapped his arms across his stomach. He rocked back and forth shivering. He seemed angry and vulnerable and Roy resisted the urge to comfort him because he wasn’t really sure what to say. 

“The way that bastard was laying into you!” Johnny raged, “God Roy, if you weren’t dead already I thought for sure he was gonna kill you!” 

“I know you did. And I’m sorry.” Roy patted Johnny’s leg gently. 

He tried to ignore the sight of his partner’s bloody t-shirt and his pale, bare feet. He tried to block out the memory of his friend gasping and moaning when the man slammed up against him. And he tried to forget Johnny crying and pleading for Roy’s life and offering his body to someone he knew was going to destroy it. 

But he couldn’t. 

“Are you okay?” 

When Johnny looked at him, his expression was troubled. “Huh?” He was still holding onto himself but at least the rocking had stopped. 

Roy cringed. It was a dumb question anyway. Johnny wasn’t all right. He’d just been brutalized by a madman. 

His partner said simply, “I don’t know how I am Roy.” 

“Yeah, well," Roy sighed, “You know you can talk to me about…this.” 

“About this.” Johnny murmured. “No, I don’t think I can. At least not now with him propped up over there staring at me.” He turned to the man and then quickly looked away. Johnny’s eyes were dark and unreadable. 

“It can wait.” Roy examined Johnny’s wrist and frowned. “But this looks pretty bad. I need to take care of it now.” Thankfully his partner didn't argue. 

Johnny’s thin wrist was a mess. The cuff had cut into his skin nearly down to the bone. It was swollen, torn and bruising purple. Roy fought back a wave of nausea when he imagined how tightly the man must have attached the handcuff and how hard Johnny must have pulled on the metal to try and break free. 

The entire situation was inconceivable. The man wanted revenge and he wanted Johnny and he used Roy as a bargaining chip to get both. He noticed his friend's droopy eyelids and tapped his arm to rouse him. “You gonna go out on me?” 

“Um…” Johnny considered, “No, I’m not.” He looked at the man again. “I’m good.” 

“Are you experiencing any numbness in your fingers?” Roy touched each digit in turn. Johnny stiffened but didn't budge, “Any loss of function?” 

“No, nothing, but it really hurts a lot.” 

“Okay, stay here,” Roy rummaged through their meager supplies. He took Johnny’s pulse and BP and cleaned the area before applying antiseptic to the surrounding cut. Johnny hissed and clenched his eyes shut. It looked to Roy like he was about to break down but he didn’t. Instead he turned away and did his best not to look at anything at all. 

"Sorry," Roy wrapped the last sterile gauze strip he could find around the wound and fastened it with the remainder of their tape. It didn’t cover much, but the bandage at least hid the worst of it. Roy looked at his partner’s neck and winced. “I need to examine you." 

"Soon, okay?" Johnny slipped out of his reach. “Just let me look for the gun I tossed.” 

“You sit, I’ll look.” Roy stood up and Johnny followed, both shaky on their feet. They grabbed onto each other and held tight for support. 

“We’ll both look,” Johnny decided. 

Roy ended up finding the gun close to where Johnny threw up the remnants of Chet’s Fireman’s stew, but Johnny’s search discovered something even more valuable – a sparkling, fully functional gosh darn handy-talkie. 

“How about we get the heck outta here?” Johnny said and pitched the unit over to Roy. 

******************************************** 

“What’s your name?” Johnny thought that if he kept his voice professional it might be possible to imagine the bleeding man currently under his care as simply another patient who needed medical attention rather than a terrifying human monster who had attempted to rape him only minutes earlier. 

“My name isn’t important.” The man breathed in and out painfully. He kept his eyes glued on Johnny’s face watching him, observing his every move, stalking him even now with their positions suddenly reversed. 

“Can you stop staring at me like that?” Johnny rubbed his face and tried to concentrate. “They’re gonna find out who you are anyway.” He took a blood pressure reading and pulse reading but couldn’t force himself to get the respirations. The man’s body was relaxed and his posture easy but Johnny wasn’t fooled by his passive, helpless act. Even with a bullet near his abdomen, a head wound, and one hand chained to the wall, he knew the man was dangerous. 

“But I like staring at you.” 

“Your name makes no difference to me. I’m fine calling you asshole.” 

The man laughed out a strange growl and Johnny knew he’d be hearing that sound in his dreams for the rest of his life. Strong fingers gripped his arm and Johnny’s barely audible “Stop,” didn’t have any effect at all. 

“You can call me anything you like Fireman.” He laughed again, “I enjoy the sound of your voice.” 

Johnny shrugged out of the grip. “You’re still bleeding. I’m gonna try and stop it.” The imprint of the man’s fingertips remained on his wrist. 

Johnny removed the badge from his torn uniform shirt and placed it in the bottom of his pants pocket. He pressed the blue fabric over the wound. The bleeding was slowing down. The man gasped when he pressed the shirt harder. Johnny felt the cold dead eyes upon him and looked up. The man stared and Johnny turned away. 

It was all too surreal. 

“I’m going to die,” he said finally. “Ed isn’t here to save me. In the end, you killed us both.” 

Johnny winced, “I didn’t kill anybody, Ed’s not dead and you aren’t going to die. If you tell us where the door key is you’ll get medical help faster. You’re gonna be fine.” His voice sounded hollow. How many times had he said those very same words to people who needed his help? “I didn’t want to shoot you.” 

“Yes,” the man said calmly, eyes never leaving his face, “You did.” 

Johnny stopped working. His hands shook. He searched around for Roy and saw his partner sitting in the corner near Vince applying a makeshift dressing. Roy met his eyes, concern brimming across his pale features and Johnny offered him a tired wave. Roy was bruised but alive and Johnny wanted very much for him to stay that way. He wondered exactly how much his friend had witnessed of what transpired between him and the man. 

The bullet grazed Roy’s forehead and knocked him out cold. He definitely had a concussion and looked a fright but judging by his behavior and vital signs, Johnny was pretty sure his partner would mend up quickly. 

When the nameless man’s hands were around Roy’s neck, Johnny was terrified. But did he want to shoot him? His honest reply was no, he didn’t. Johnny hated guns and the damage they inflicted on the bodies of people he worked on every day. If there had been any other way for them to escape he would have never fired a shot. 

“I don’t regret it.” Johnny kept his voice firm. He checked the dressing again and moved back against the wall keeping well out of reach of the man and giving himself a chance to rest. He pulled his knees as far up to his chest as he was able and breathed in and out struggling to keep his eyes open. 

Johnny couldn’t afford to let his guard down for even a second. His mind was a whirlwind of imagery; shame, fear, anger, and pain, everything happening all at once, crashing into him with the blinding power of a sudden vindictive memory. 

The shooting was still hazy. 

He remembered Roy tossing him the gun and the man screaming in rage when Johnny pulled the trigger. He advanced toward him, fists flying, even as the blood drained out of his body. The man tried to slam Johnny’s head into the wall before finally dropping at his feet. 

_“Well played Fireman…”_

He shuddered and wrapped his arms across his chest. At least he didn’t have to worry about Chet’s fireman’s stew anymore. 

When the police arrived, all hell was going to break loose. There would be questions and arrests and ambulances and another Squad taking his BP. Johnny wished to god he didn’t have to be a part of it. He couldn’t even imagine explaining what happened to him to any of the guys back at the Station. 

He was vague on a lot of events anyway. He recalled entering the building and the darkness in room 410, finding Vince bleeding out on the floor and Roy not being able to connect to Rampart on the bio-phone. After that stuff got fuzzy. The next thing he remembered was waking up chained to a wall in a room that didn’t look anything like the one he’d just been in and a large man with the darkest smile he'd ever seen staring clear through to his soul. 

When he couldn’t see Roy anywhere Johnny started to panic but the man understood his alarm and indicated with a twist of his head exactly where he should be looking. 

Roy was lying on the cement floor near Vince bleeding from a head wound and Johnny thought for sure he was dead. But suddenly he saw his friend start to move and pull himself toward the fallen police officer. The man kicked him but Roy kept crawling. He managed to shout, “Roy!” but his voice barely carried. Then the man kicked his friend again and Roy didn’t move for a very long time. 

“He’s alive,” The man had assured him and since Johnny needed to believe that, he did. The man was leveraging Roy’s life against the idea that Johnny would do whatever he wanted and go to any lengths possible to save his friend. 

All in all, it was a pretty secure bet. 

He felt sick remembering the heavy weight of the man lying on top of him, spreading his legs and maneuvering him as easily as if he were a doll. The man hadn’t penetrated him in any way and yet Johnny felt so used up and exhausted that he’d swear he’d been fucked over inside and out for the better part of a week. 

When the man started moving against him Johnny was terrified but when he started responding it frightened him even more. No wonder the man had called him a whore. Johnny wasn’t a complete idiot. He knew that the body had a mind of its own especially when stimulated beyond capacity, but considering the viciousness of the assault, he simply hadn’t been prepared for the insane rush of blood and the sudden and unbelievably intense nirvana and need for release to hit him so quickly. The idea that he could become aroused by such rough contact while just a shade away from passing out made his head spin in three different directions at once. 

Johnny mentioned to Roy earlier that he didn’t really know how he felt but that wasn’t entirely true. He felt lost and embarrassed and more scared and in pain than he’d ever felt before in his entire life. But he also felt relieved and anxious and royally pissed off at just about everyone and everything. 

He sneezed twice in a row and tried to stop his teeth from chattering. It didn’t come as any surprise to Johnny that he also felt cold. 

He wrapped his arms tighter and started to drift. He wished he was still wearing his uniform shirt. He felt sort of naked without it. And he wasn’t really sure where his socks were either. There were no windows in the room so maybe a basement? And it was chilly and damp and… 

Johnny opened his eyes with a start. Roy was sitting next to him, watching him as intently as the man had watched him for hours. But where the man’s expression held malice and want his friend’s gaze showed only concern. 

“Hey Junior,” Roy’s voice sounded rough. 

“Hey yourself Pally,” Johnny yawned. “I think I may need to sleep for about a year.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” Roy touched his face and turned his head back and forth examining Johnny’s bruises carefully. He glanced at the blood-soaked bandage on Johnny’s arm where Joe Early had stitched him up and asked tightly, “How did that happen?” 

Roy wasn’t even trying to conceal his anger. Johnny heard rage in every syllable. 

“It’s nothing.” He wrapped his damaged arm tightly across his stomach and breathed in deeply. 

“Your cheekbone looks like it might be broken.” 

“It does?” he couldn’t remember when that happened but if Roy said it then it must be true. His partner was the best paramedic in the business. He dug his nails into the palms of his hands willing the pain to ground him. Ignoring Roy’s touch was impossible. It was too much, too soon. 

“Roy…” 

Roy’s hands moved across his shoulders pressing lightly and stopping at his neck, frozen, right at the spot where the man had bit him. It was the first real chance Roy had gotten to check him out since the nightmare started. “He did this to you.” 

Johnny was grateful Roy didn’t phrase it as a question. He raised his eyebrows and twisted his mouth but he didn’t respond to his partner. 

“You’ll probably get an infection so that means strong antibiotics. Hopefully not too many stitches though. I’m gonna have to clean this up.” Roy’s voice was gruff, but steady, rambling. Johnny figured it made him feel better. His partner’s hands were gentle, searching out tenderness in Johnny’s rib cage and arms. “This rib might be cracked, possibly another one and Dr. Early will spit when he sees what happened to his handiwork.” His practiced manner helped a bit but it was still a struggle for Johnny to stay still. All the pressing and searching was making him crazy. 

“Um,” Johnny tore into his lip. He didn’t want to mess up and say something he’d regret. This was his partner. He trusted his partner. 

He tensed up when Roy felt his stomach, “Can we just stop touching me now?” Johnny didn’t have the strength to push Roy’s hand away. He felt chained in place like he was with the man, helpless and unable to fight back. 

“Please Roy.” It was nearly impossible not to freak out. He started tearing up. He felt like an idiot. “Stop…” Johnny started to breathe in and out quickly, too quickly. Hyperventilating was a dumb move but he couldn’t stop himself. He searched his friend’s eyes for support. 

“Johnny, I’ll stop.” Roy patted his leg once and sat alongside him. 

It was crazy but now that Roy had moved away, Johnny wanted him to move closer. He murmured “I’m sorry” and heard Roy tell him it was okay and that he’d help him through it and that they’d get the hell out of here soon. 

Johnny believed him completely. 

Roy started speaking then, explaining to him that while Vince looked pretty bad Roy had seen worse shooting victims before who survived and that Vince was probably going to surprise them. He mentioned how good a cup of Rampart coffee would taste right about now. He talked about the Squad and how they needed to give her a good cleaning and maybe a paint touch-up. He laughed at how Chet would feel guilty that Johnny threw up his Fireman’s stew but how on the plus side this might mean they’d probably never have to eat it again in their lives. And he told Johnny how lucky he was to have him as a friend and as a partner and how he’d never forget what he was willing to go through today to save Roy's life. 

If Roy said anything else, Johnny didn’t remember. He rested his head against Roy's shoulder and promptly fell asleep. 

******************************************** 

The sirens in the distance shocked Roy awake. He was sitting with his head atop of Johnny’s, still leaning against the wall, dozing in and out and periodically checking up on his patients. Sleeping probably wasn’t in his best interests but with Johnny down for the count there really wasn’t much left to keep Roy awake. His head still ached but it was a far cry from the throbbing horror it had been just a few hours earlier and that was a definite plus in his book. 

Vince had woken much to Roy’s delight and to the best of his knowledge now appeared to be only sleeping. He had a long recovery ahead of him but Roy knew that if they got him to Rampart soon, he’d have an excellent chance. He wished he had access to more medical supplies and better equipment but that would happen soon now that the cavalry was set to arrive. 

Finding a strong signal within the concrete walls had taken some time, but the handy-talkie had worked perfectly. Roy was able to inform Command of his location with one major restriction: the only reference he had available to him was the address of the Squad’s previous call. Truthfully Roy wasn’t even sure he was still in the same building. The steel exit door was locked up tight and if the man knew where the key was he certainly wasn’t talking. Their only option was to sit and wait for rescue. 

Roy relayed between Command and a doctor at Rampart and was able to care for his patients with what limited supplies the man had left them. He didn’t have any drugs, needles or IV’s but he did have a small supply of tape and bandages, oxygen and his blood pressure cuff. It wasn’t much but it still made him feel better. 

But that had been a couple of hours ago and Roy was seriously starting to doubt they’d ever be found. 

He sighed. At least the man no longer posed a danger. Johnny had managed to staunch most of the blood flow from his stomach wound and he was now lying comfortably albeit still very much on guard. Roy was amazed that his friend was able to treat the man, to actually sit next to him and hold a conversation with him after what had transpired between them. He wasn’t sure he’d have the grace to do the same thing if he were in Johnny’s shoes. 

But then again, Johnny was different. 

Roy remembered the rescue where his partner talked two bank robbers into turning themselves in and smiled. He noticed the man watching Johnny sleep. He wished his friend could have a little peace, free from the man’s unwanted attentions. 

Roy took a deep breath and stumbled up to make his rounds. Vince was groggy but at least his pulse and blood pressure were improving. Roy knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet but things were looking up for him now for sure. He checked beneath the bandage and didn’t see any fresh blood. 

“Roy?” Vince managed, “What happened?” 

“Just rest, help is on the way.” Vince struggled to right himself but Roy gently pushed him back down. 

“That man, he hit me, took my gun, he…” Vince coughed for about a minute. “Is Johnny alright?” 

Roy swallowed, “Johnny’s fine.” He waited until Vince nodded his acceptance and fell back asleep. Roy rolled his jacket under the officer’s head to make him feel a bit more comfortable on the hard cement. “Just rest Vince.” 

“Yeah, okay.” The officer nodded and Roy moved on to his next patient. 

He knelt by the man and checked his BP. “100 over 70. I think you’re going to make it.” He followed up with the pulse and respirations. The man didn’t move a muscle. 

“You sound disappointed.” 

Roy considered. “Johnny shot you. He’d feel guilty if you died. And I think he has enough things to worry about right now.” 

The man gazed back at Johnny. “He’s beautiful. He would have been great with me.” 

It never ceased to amaze Roy how brutal human beings could be to one another, and how they could inflict pain and fear and heartbreak and yet be completely devoid of conscience and the knowledge that their cruelty could have lasting consequences. 

“No, he wouldn’t have been great with you. That’s your delusion. Johnny didn’t want any part of you. He was afraid that you would kill me. He’s my friend! And you hurt him. You manipulated him using threats and violence to make him agree to your terms and he accepted because he wanted me to live.” Roy moved closer desperately wanting to wound the man for the hellish way he treated Johnny. “If you died right now, I wouldn’t mourn you. And I don’t think Ed Marlowe would shed a tear for you either.” 

“Roy??” The voice from the shadows was soft yet insistent. 

Roy pulled his eyes away from the man, “Yeah.” 

“Don’t waste your breath on him.” 

Johnny’s left arm was wrapped across his stomach, protecting it, while his right hand skimmed the wall for traction when he moved. He slid down to the floor with a groan and closed his eyes. Roy had seen his friend in pain enough times to know that he was hurting. He looked up at Roy and grimaced slightly. 

“Right.” Roy reached for Johnny’s wrist and sighed, “Pulse is 80.” He attached the blood pressure cuff, “BP is 105 over 75.” Johnny moved his hands away from his body leaving it open for Roy to check him out. “And respirations are…22.” 

Johnny smiled briefly when he called out the stats and Roy grinned back. There was no bio phone here, and no hospital either, but Roy was a paramedic, even now in this hell-hole of a place, and with or without equipment or supervision he still knew how to get the job done. 

“They’re not too bad considering.” 

“Considering.” Johnny repeated with a tired grin and then suddenly his expression changed. He popped up on his knees, and bent over until his head nearly touched the floor, clutching his stomach and stifling a moan. “Ugh…cramps!” 

Roy started rubbing his back gently, more out of habit than anything else, and felt his hand smacked roughly away. Johnny shimmied up against the wall and licked his lips nervously. 

“Fuck Roy don't do that!” 

“Are you..." 

"I'm good," Johnny replied quickly. 

“I shouldn’t have…” 

“I said I’m good Roy!” Johnny snapped. 

“Yeah, I got that!” His sudden anger was confusing; anger at Johnny, anger at the man and anger at the god damn room for holding them prisoner. 

“Come over here Fireman. I'll fix you right up.” 

The man’s laughter sickened him. Johnny paled but didn’t respond. 

“Son of a bitch!” Roy zipped to his feet and staggered forward. "Shut up!” He grabbed the man by the shirt and shook him hard. The man laughed until his eyes watered and tears rolled down his chin and slipped into the folds of his jowly neck. “You don’t have the right to say anything else to him! Do you understand me? Not one more word!” The man smirked. “Go on do it again! I’ll knock that smile off your face for good!” 

“Roy, come on man, don’t.” 

The man was watching Roy carefully, smiling, visually taunting him to go the extra mile and take a swing. The temptation was there but Johnny was right. Pounding the crap out of this monster would feel great but it wasn’t the answer. His partner needed him now more than ever before and Roy was determined to do everything in his power to ensure that he and Johnny escaped from this horror intact. 

“You’re better than that.” Johnny whispered. 

The gentle reminder was exactly what Roy needed. He released the man and let him fall back onto the floor. They were once again on the same page. Paramedic, partner, friend; all three were as easy as breathing since the day he first met Johnny. 

“You’re cramping because you’re dehydrated.” Roy murmured finally, “I don't have a lot of fluids left to give you.” 

Johnny nodded. He looked pale and worn, with deep circles under both of his eyes and a large shiner just under the rim of his left one. His cheekbone wasn’t broken like Roy had feared earlier but by tomorrow morning the facial bruising and busted lip were going to look nasty. Roy tried his best not to worry over Johnny’s swollen wrist and torn up throat. “Any headache?” 

“A little bit. I’m tired.” 

Roy spoke carefully, “Look, I’ll try and be quick but I need to look at that bruising on your belly and wrap the wound on your neck better if I can find anything clean to put on it, okay?” 

“If you don’t do it I guess someone else will. But then I get to give you a once over too. Deal?” Roy nodded and Johnny pulled up his t-shirt. “Have at it Pally." 

Roy touched around the bruise while Johnny kept his eyes closed. “No rigidity but I still need to keep an eye on your pressure.” The outline of a large fist made his blood boil. The man had punched his friend hard enough to leave an imprint on his skin. “Does that hurt?” 

“Um, it really does,” Johnny covered up quickly. He leaned against the wall and pulled his knees up to his chest carefully. “I need to get out of here Roy. I don’t think I can take him staring at me for much longer. Why is he doing that?” He turned toward the man and shouted, “Why are you doing that?” but the man only smiled. 

Roy chose his words carefully. “Ignore him. He can’t hurt you anymore.” 

Johnny licked his lips. Roy could see his jaw relax, felt some tension leave his body. “He’s worthless. He’s staring at you to bother you and to make you feel uncomfortable. He’s not worth your time. Considering the circumstances, you did more for that guy than most people would have done, me included. You don’t owe him anything – especially your attention.” 

Roy could sense Johnny calming down. His partner nestled back against the wall and shuddered. “It’s going to be okay,” Roy said. He angled his back, purposely blocking the man’s view of Johnny’s face. 

“God, Roy.” Johnny wrapped his arms around his legs wearily. 

“I bet the guys are going crazy wondering what happened to us. Not to mention Joanne.” Roy mused and then cursed inwardly when Johnny’s face darkened. "Sorry." 

“Naw, I’m fine, it’s just…” Johnny stroked the bandage on his neck gently and then suddenly crunched it up in his fist. He held tight to the tattered material until his hand started shaking and then when he noticed Roy watching, he tried unsuccessfully to smooth it back down to cover the bite marks. “Sorry.” Johnny frowned. He removed the failed bandage for a second time and shoved it in his pocket. 

“I don’t think I have any more of those partner.” Roy ventured calmly, waiting Johnny out. 

“Damn it Roy. As much as I want to get the hell out of here I also dread getting the hell out of here too, ya know?” He rubbed his face miserably. “What am I gonna say to the guys? How do I explain this?” He gestured toward the man without looking in his direction, “…when I don’t really get it myself.” 

“Johnny, I think…” 

"And what about Ed Marlowe?" Johnny interrupted, "I know he blamed us for flunking him out of the paramedic program but this goes way beyond revenge. This is attempted murder!" 

Johnny's agitation was growing. Roy did his best to calm him down. “The police will figure out how Ed was involved and they’ll arrest him if it comes to that.” 

“But why? I mean, why would he do this to us? Why?” Johnny gazed toward the man again and fell silent. 

“I don't have any answers for you." Roy touched his partners arm and Johnny flinched and squirmed away. "Hey…” 

“What.” 

“I'm on your side." 

Johnny sighed, "Right. I know that Roy. I know." 

“We’ll get through this together. We’ll figure things out.” 

“Yeah,” Johnny replied, exhaustion creeping into his tone, “I guess we'll have to.” 

They sat quietly for a few minutes, breathing in and out, relaxed and secure in each other’s company. 

“The police will be here soon," Roy said quietly. “Any time now.” 

As if on cue, the sirens sounded. They were louder this time, and closer than before. Boots stomped outside their prison door and Roy stood up quickly dragging Johnny to his feet. 

“We’re in here!” Roy yelled and hugged his partner. He was surprised and relieved when after a second, Johnny hugged him right back. 

******************************************** 

A crashing sound jarred the door, once, then again, and uniforms of all colors flooded inside. 

“Get the paramedics in here. We have injured men!” Lieutenant Crockett stood in front of the two missing firemen, hands on hips, with a smile quivering around the inside corners of his mouth. He knew his posture was suitably intimidating. “You gentlemen gave us quite a run for our money to find you.” 

“Um, where are we?” Gage asked softly. 

Crockett frowned. “You’ve been missing for nearly twelve hours. You’re in the basement of the building two doors down from the one where you were originally sent. It used to be a clothing factory back in the day and now they just store dry cement here. Your Squad was located clear across the city in an abandoned junk yard. It led us on quite a merry chase.” 

Desoto looked enraged at the idea of someone else driving the Squad so Crockett didn’t press it. “We found blood on the floor of room 410 but no sign of anybody else in the building. It’s marked for demolition next month. After we found the Squad we decided to take another look. Around the same time, we received word of your transmission on the handy-talkie. One of my officers found blood on the front landing at this building and well, we took the hint. Do you remember how you got here?” 

“He must have brought us here.” 

Gage’s handsome face was a mess. Dark bruises dotted his exposed skin from forehead to neck, with the latter ones looking especially grisly. The contusions around his wrist and arm made Crockett blink. He’d been chained up somewhere. No doubt about that. 

Gage turned away from the detective’s candid appraisal and pulled his arms across his chest but that didn’t hide a god damn thing. He watched the paramedic lean against his partner for support. His shoulder blades stuck out like angel’s wings beneath his bloody t-shirt. Gage looked like a dead man walking. Something bad happened here and it was probably a hell of a lot worse than he could ever imagine. 

“I want to get you boys looked at.” 

Desoto frowned. He looked nearly as fucked over as Gage. “Vince is stable for now. He took a bullet to the side. It was a through and through. He also has a bruise on his head that’s not swelling but he was out for a long time. We don’t have most of our equipment. The IV’s and drugs and syringes are missing.” He continued, “The other guy was shot in the abdomen and he hit his head when he fell. We’ve been monitoring his vitals.” Desoto paused here but didn’t miss a beat. “He shot Vince with his own gun.” 

Crockett took note of the scattered medical equipment, the bandages and the blood. “He did. Then who shot him?” 

Gage paled considerably. “I did.” 

Crockett raised an eyebrow. 

“It was self-defense,” Desoto added. 

Gage looked beat. Crockett didn’t doubt the self-defense claim for even a second. He watched a paramedic named Dwyer settle next to Gage and take his wrist for a pulse. Gage pulled his arm back quickly, then looked embarrassed and allowed the man to work on him. Desoto’s eyes stayed glued on his partner but he wasn’t the only one. Across the room, the man Gage shot was eyeing him, scrutinizing quietly, while another paramedic worked on him and contacted the hospital. 

“It’s okay Johnny,” Dwyer said, “I’m sure relieved to see you guys. We couldn’t figure out what happened to you.” 

Gage sounded numb, “Yeah, we’re glad to see you too.” 

Crockett didn’t miss the way he turned away from the man on the floor as if the weight of the hard gaze was exhausting him further. “We don’t have a name on him yet but we’ll get it soon enough, especially if he has a record.” Gage didn’t react to the statement at all. It was Desoto who responded. “He says he knows a paramedic that we trained a few years back, Ed Marlowe.” 

“Is that paramedic here?” Crockett looked around. 

“We flunked him out of the program,” Gage offered. 

Desoto shrugged. “Look, from what I can gather Ed Marlowe saved this guy’s life in Vietnam. Ed hasn’t had a lot of luck in the department since we failed him. I thought he’d go back to being a fireman but he didn’t. I think this guy took his grudge against us and formed one of his own.” 

“That makes sense. Believe me, we’ll find Ed Marlowe.” 

“Lieutenant,” Desoto spoke haltingly. He looked quickly at his partner and exhaled. “The man told me he was also responsible for the car accident we responded to this morning. There were two fatalities. He knew a lot of the details.” 

Gage looked up suddenly, his expression gaining fire. “He said what.” 

“Johnny,” Desoto cautioned. 

“He killed that woman?” Gage tore off the blood pressure cuff and slammed it at Dwyer. He advanced on the man on the stretcher so quickly his partner didn’t get a chance to slow him down. “You bastard, she wasn’t a part of this! Why would you kill her?” 

“Hey, somebody stop him!” Crockett started to advance but two police officers reached Gage first and tossed him to the cement. His face hit hard and his mouth came up bloody. 

Crockett saw the man bite his own lip viciously to match Gage. He said, “Fireman.” 

“Hey!” Desoto tried to get close to his partner. “He’s not the criminal here!” 

“Let go of him,” Crockett gestured to his men to release Gage. He knelt on the ground next to the paramedic and offered him his hand. Gage didn’t respond. Crockett sighed “Take it,” and pulled him to his feet slowly. “I’m sorry about that. Not everyone here is aware of who’s who.” 

“I’m okay.” The depth of despair reflected in Gage’s face could fill an ocean. Crockett had a feeling he’d be repeating “I’m okay” for a very long time. He definitely shared a history with the man, no matter how brief, and it wasn’t going to be pretty getting to the bottom of that cesspool. 

Desoto took hold of his partner and pulled him away from the police, out of the limelight and back against the wall. Dwyer looked at him apprehensively. 

“Um, Gage?” Dwyer touched his arm and Gage nearly jumped out of his skin. 

He said, “Just do whatever you have to.” And then, “Did you check out Roy?” 

******************************************** 

“Roy! John!” Captain Stanley hated arriving late to the party but Engine 51 was assisting on a warehouse fire at the docks and he had only just received notification that his missing men along with Vince had been found alive. Since the fire was under control he requested and was given permission to assist at the scene and see for himself. Engine 51 had been worried sick. 

“You guys okay?” He took in Gage’s bruise covered body and Roy’s gauze wrapped head and frowned. Oh, they were alive all right, but by the looks of it, barely. 

“Hey Cap.” Gage’s voice was quiet. 

“What the hell happened to you? And Vince! The three of you responded to that call and then we lost contact. Someone cancelled the ambulance that was meeting you at the scene.” He scrutinized Gage’s expression, relief mixed with exhaustion and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on, and Desoto, happy to see him but edgy too, and totally worrying over his partner. “You both look terrible.” 

“Right, look, we’re okay Cap,” Desoto offered with a smile. His voice sounded awful. Gage’s only response was a nod. 

Stanley noticed he was shivering. And that his feet were bare. “Where’s your shirt?” 

Gage gestured over his shoulder but didn’t turn his head, “On his stomach wound.” 

Stanley smiled lightly. Leave it to Gage to put someone else’s comfort before his own. But that still didn’t explain his missing shoes. He pulled off his navy uniform jacket and gestured to his friend, “Take this John.” 

Stanley thought Gage was going to refuse the offer but Desoto took the jacket before he could respond, said ‘thanks,’ and wrapped it across Gage’s back. 

Stanley knew there was a story here and he wondered when he’d be allowed to hear it. Right now, his two paramedics looked like they’d been put through the ringer and all the blood and bruising scared him to death. Their health was his primary concern. 

“We’ll get you out of here soon,” he explained, “We’re waiting on the second ambulance.” 

Gage swallowed, “Okay,” and Desoto only stared. 

“Gentlemen,” Crockett edged in on their conversation, watching Gage closely much to his younger paramedic’s obvious chagrin. “I’d like to talk to you about the shooting now.” 

“Lieutenant, I think both of my men need to be in a hospital. Can’t all of this wait?” 

Desoto looked at him gratefully. Gage didn’t respond. Something told Stanley that a hospital was the last place he wanted to be right now. He examined the mess all around him. Well, other than this room anyway. 

“I understand your concern Captain,” Crockett offered, "But we have an officer involved shooting here. One of my men is in serious condition. And your man Gage shot the other victim. I need to speak to everyone involved and I can’t wait very long." 

"Victim." Gage muttered and Stanley watched Crockett's expression soften before the words hit him. Gage shot someone. 

“I know you and Roy are hurting too John. And I know he was the one who hurt you. But shootings have to be investigated. We can talk later at the hospital okay? You can have someone with you if you like.” Crocket was being very gentle with him and Stanley glanced quickly at Desoto. The older paramedic shook his head. 

"Captain Stanley, the second ambulance is here." Chet arrived with a rush of cold air. He spoke slowly trying to take everything in. “John, Roy, wow, you guys had us worried.” The fireman examined his two friends up and down and his expression changed drastically from one of relief to sudden fear. “I’m glad you’re…okay?” 

"Don't even try pal. This situation is not going to explain itself." Stanley rubbed his face nervously, “Send the attendants in.” 

"Thanks Chet." Roy touched Johnny's shoulder. "This one is for us Johnny, just as soon as Dwyer finishes up with your vitals and sets up that IV.” He motioned for Dwyer to come back over and continue his check. 

“Yeah,” Johnny didn’t sound very enthusiastic. Stanley noted the way he kept his arms wrapped across his stomach and his face turned into Roy. 

“Rules and procedures pal,” Stanley replied. “You know that.” Gage looked as if he wanted to say more on the subject but then bit his tongue. “That’s right young man. No arguments or you’ll be on latrine duty for the next two weeks.” 

Gage’s smile was weak, “Right now Cap, that doesn’t sound half bad.” 

******************************************** 

The ride to the hospital was taking forever. 

Johnny stared past Roy and Roy stared past him. Dwyer attempted small talk at first, in the early going but then stopped when he realized he was having a conversation with himself. That suited Johnny just fine. He didn’t feel very much like talking to anybody anyway. 

“Almost there Johnny,” Dwyer offered with a subdued smile. 

Johnny tugged at his IV line. He wasn’t sure how he was going to explain his bruises to the doctors. The man had done a pretty good job of marking him up wherever his skin was exposed and even in a lot of places where it wasn’t. And the same man that abused him would be somewhere in the hospital too, maybe in the next room, receiving excellent care, and being operated on to remove the bullet that Johnny put inside him. He pulled Captain Stanley’s jacket tighter across his shoulders. The nightmare wasn’t over. In some ways, it was just beginning. He could have killed someone. “God,” he murmured without thinking. It was unbelievable. He was a paramedic trained to save lives, not take them. 

“We called Joanne, Roy. She’ll be at the hospital,” Dwyer smiled, “I bet you can’t wait to see her now that it’s over.” Johnny got the idea that Dwyer was waiting for them to talk about what happened but neither he nor Roy said a word. 

“Yeah, I hate to think how worried she was,” Roy responded. He sounded tired but relieved. 

“Everything’s ok now.” Dwyer smiled. 

“Everything’s fine. Everything’s just fine,” Johnny murmured. Dwyer was a nice guy and a friend and he didn’t deserve the contempt that Johnny was projecting. It wasn’t fair and it was ugly. But why did he have to explain everything anyway? Maybe he could just say the man beat the crap out of him; play it off that way. 

_Yeah, right._

Brackett would see right through him. He’d take one look at the bite marks on Johnny’s neck and measure the handprints on his arms and know immediately that something bad happened that went far beyond a simple beating. The staff at Rampart didn’t miss a trick. 

“We’re here,” Roy nudged his elbow. His friend was about the only person he could stand to be around right now. 

“We are?” 

“Just talk to the doctors. You trust them.” Roy licked his lips nervously. “I know you’re worried but it’s gonna be okay.” He looked like hell but all things considered after being shot in the head, Johnny thought he also looked pretty damn incredible. 

Joanne raced to Roy the minute he entered the hospital and hugged him tight. She looked like she never wanted to let him go. Johnny was happy for them. One look at her teary face and happy smile and her arms wrapped around his friend’s neck and Johnny knew he’d make the same decision all over again. Joanne glanced at Johnny and gave him a small smile to let him know how happy she was to see him too but Johnny didn’t smile back. He noticed Lieutenant Crockett standing in the shadows. It was all starting to get too real. 

He lost track of Roy in the crowd of policemen, nurses and orderlies. One moment he was watching his friend, and then the next he was gone. Crocket nodded to him and started to walk over and Johnny sighed. He wished he could just disappear into the crowd and go home and hide out until all the memories and bruises faded. People kept looking at him and touching him and putting him on display. 

It was a very discomforting feeling. 

“Gage,” Crockett began. “I just need a few minutes.” 

Dixie made a beeline to intercept. Johnny looked at her gratefully. “Later Lieutenant,” her tone was firm, “He hasn’t seen the doctor yet.” 

“Okay, fine. But I’m not going anywhere.” 

“I didn’t ask you to.” Dixie waited until Crockett walked away. He didn’t intimidate Dixie at all. No one did. “Johnny?” She tapped his arm gently. “We’re going to put you in three.” 

“Dixie, where’s Roy?” There was an edge of panic in his voice. He’d been with Roy since the nightmare started. It seemed wrong to be separated from him now. “Maybe I could go with him? I mean, go wherever he is?” More hysteria, more worry, this day just wouldn’t leave him alone. It was glued on him like a second skin. 

“Roy is in one with Dr. Early,” Dixie frowned and looked him over. “Sorry Johnny, you get a one on one with Dr. Brackett courtesy of the house.” She called over to the attendant, “Take him to three.” 

The attendant helped Johnny into the room and onto the examining table. He held onto Cap’s jacket and closed his eyes. He opened them wide to Brackett’s concerned appraisal. 

“Well, you don’t look too great that’s for sure.” 

“Then it matches how I feel Doc.” 

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Bracket was giving him a chance but Johnny wasn’t sure he wanted to take it. Talking about the experience with Roy was one thing, telling Brackett was another. 

“Um,” he watched a nurse flutter around taking his vitals; pulse, blood pressure, respirations. Brackett started the examination by picking up his wrist, removing the bandage and shaking his head. Johnny tried to remember every rescue he’d had for the past five days; the treatments, the victim names, locations, anything to help him ignore the hands currently roaming over his body. 

“Gage, talk to us.” Morton’s voice threw him. He hadn’t seen the brash young doctor enter. It scared him to be so out of touch. “John? Did you hear me?” 

“Yeah…” Johnny couldn’t get any other words out. His throat was dry. His heart was pounding. Morton was looking at him, waiting. He closed his eyes and tried to block everything out. 

“Pulse is 100 Doctor,” the nurse observed. “BP is 115 over 70.” 

Brackett nodded. He padded around Johnny’s face, examining his cheekbones, dabbing at his busted lip. Brackett stopped cold when he reached Johnny’s neck. “These look like bite marks.” His voice was hesitant but Johnny didn’t take the bait. He heard Brackett sigh, “Johnny, are these bite marks?” 

Johnny opened his eyes, nodded and looked away. Brackett didn’t press him. He spoke to the nurse. 

“Hook up another IV with ampicillin-sulbactam stat wide open. Then wash this area thoroughly and apply antibiotic ointment. I want to nip any possible infection in the bud.” 

“Gage,” Morton tried another tactic. “We were all pretty concerned.” He squeezed Johnny’s shoulder and started to remove Cap’s jacket. Johnny felt the breath leave his body in a rush. He pulled the jacket back around him. 

“Don’t...” Johnny brushed Morton’s hand off his shoulder and closed his eyes again, then opened them. He started to tremble. It was so much easier in the dark. 

“I’m sorry Gage,” Morton began, “But we need to take off the jacket to examine you further.” 

“I don’t want you to touch me.” Johnny didn’t miss the shared glance between the two physicians. He wished Morton would just get the hell out. 

“Let him keep the jacket on for now Mike.” Brackett allowed, “I’m just going to have a look at your abdomen Johnny.” 

Johnny nearly jumped off the table when Brackett pushed up his t-shirt. Suddenly he was back in the basement lying on the cold hard floor. He started to hyperventilate and pushed Brackett’s hand away, “Just, don’t…” 

“I’m not going to hurt you but I have to take a look.” Brackett edged up the T-shirt again and showed the large bruise to Morton. “This almost looks like deep impact bruising. Is that a fist? We need to keep an eye on your blood pressure.” 

Morton whistled and pressed softly on his belly feeling around. Johnny’s world exploded. He started to fight, pushing at any hands that grabbed him; struggling, gasping, pleading. His fist connected with Morton’s face and he felt a grim sense of satisfaction. “Leave me the fuck alone!” 

“Johnny!” Brackett ran out of his field of vision. “Mike, just hold him!” 

“I got him.” Morton lay across his chest and whispered, “It’s okay, it’s all right John. You’re safe.” The sheer weight of the other man’s body consumed him. 

Then Brackett injected something into his arm and Johnny faded out on his final whimper. “Please…” 

******************************************** 

  

Dr. Early examined Roy’s head, took his vitals and instructed a nurse to set up an additional IV for fluids. 

“We’re going to do some x-rays and get blood work but I’d say you were pretty lucky.” He smiled at Roy, genuinely happy to see him. “You have some bruising on your larynx. The x-rays will tell us how bad. I’d say you definitely have a concussion too. That cut on your head isn’t too deep but it’s a bad graze. It’s still going to need stitches. Do you have a headache?” 

“Yeah, sort of but it’s not too bad. The man shot at me and I felt the bullet zip past. I’m not sure if it knocked me out or if I hit my head when I fell.” Roy touched his head at the memory and winced. “Johnny wrapped it for me.” 

“That’s good,” Early smiled. “Why did he shoot at you Roy?” He pressed, “Do you remember how long you were out?” He pulled down Roy’s shirt and examined the dark bruising around his neck. “Do you remember him doing this?” 

Roy’s head was spinning. So many questions were being tossed in his direction that it was impossible for him to breathe let alone answer. “Yeah, I…do.” 

Roy didn’t want to talk to anyone about what happened but he also knew that he couldn’t keep the horrors hidden forever. One way or another every single bit of the nightmare would be exposed and Roy didn’t want the truth to be distorted. Hopefully Johnny was doing his best talking to Brackett. He frowned. Knowing Johnny, it was probably more like pulling teeth. 

“The man shot at me while I was trying to get to Johnny. The man wouldn’t leave Johnny alone. He wouldn’t stop…” Roy’s voice caught. He felt like he was drowning. 

“He wouldn’t leave Johnny alone how?” 

“Johnny was unconscious when I found him. Then someone knocked me out.” He remembered the sting of the needle, the darkness, the fear. “I was drugged. When I woke up I realized we’d been moved someplace else. I assumed we were in the same building, maybe just another room or floor or something. But I was wrong. We weren’t at the call scene anymore.” 

Roy overheard police at the scene speculating that the man bribed some addicts outside the building with drugs he took from the Squad to help him move the three men to a different location. Roy didn’t have any proof it happened that way but the explanation made sense. 

He swallowed, “I was just coming out of it, just waking up, but Johnny hadn’t woken up yet,” he stuttered, “and the man…” 

“Roy, it’s okay. Johnny is safe.” He pulled up a seat next to the examining table. “What happened? 

Roy took a breath. He trusted Joe Early. “The way the man was looking at Johnny scared me. He started touching him and saying the most disgusting stuff I’d ever heard. He kept making insinuations.” Roy hugged himself but it didn’t make a dent in his anxiety. “He told me what he wanted to do to Johnny and I believed him.” 

Early paused and asked the nurse to leave the room. He continued, “Roy, did that man sexually assault Johnny?” 

Roy had to hand it to Joe Early; he certainly didn’t beat around the bush. 

“Assault him? Yes, I mean, no. I don’t think so at least not after I woke up the second time,” Roy sputtered. “That bastard was all over him but Johnny would have told me, right?” He considered, “I just don’t know anything for sure.” 

Roy started shaking suddenly glad there was no one else in the room. He couldn’t imagine explaining the horror in front of a nurse. Or Dixie or god forbid, in front of Joanne. But he had to explain to them - especially if Johnny wouldn’t. He had to let them know that Johnny was as much a victim of the man as he was a hero to Roy. 

There was no way around it. “Doctor, Johnny saved my life.” 

“I don’t understand.” Early’s expression was neutral. This was a man who was not going to judge anything until he heard all the facts. Roy appreciated that and trusted him implicitly. “Those bruises all over Gage, Roy, did the man Johnny shot do that to him?” 

“Yeah, he did.” 

Roy could not remember ever seeing Dr. Joe Early quite so angry. “He beat you and Johnny?” 

“I woke up and Johnny was chained to the wall with Vince’s cuffs and some old wiring or chain or something. I heard them talking. It was heated. I caught bits and pieces but enough to get the idea. Johnny didn’t have his uniform shirt on. He sounded scared but wouldn’t tell the guy to stop. He was going to let the guy have his way with him so I could live. I mean, can you imagine?” 

“Roy…” Early’s voice sounded strained. 

“I could hear Johnny breathing. Every breath I swear to god I heard every breath. That bastard kept slapping him and touching him,” Roy was gasping now, “He called him ‘Fireman’ like it was a curse! The man made a deal with Johnny; his body for my life. Johnny agreed to that. How could he agree to that?” 

“It’s okay. Johnny’s okay.” 

“No, he’s not. He’s messed up. I know he is. I saw him afterwards. Those bite marks on his neck...” Roy licked salt water from his lips. He couldn’t remember when he started crying. 

“I need you to calm down okay?” Early patted his shoulder gently, “The both of you have undergone a significant trauma but you’re alive. Remember that.” 

“We’re alive.” Roy repeated. He groaned inwardly. He had betrayed his best friend. Johnny was willing to let that monster have him in order to save Roy’s skin and instead of letting Johnny be the one to explain the situation, Roy repaid his sacrifice by spilling everything that happened to them at the first opportunity. He wished Dr. Early would leave him alone but as usual, the physician was very persistent. 

“This isn’t your fault. You need to remember that. The blame for what happened to Johnny falls upon the man who hurt him. Not on Johnny and not on you. Do you understand me?” Early squeezed his shoulder again, rougher this time to get his attention. “Roy?” 

“Yeah I do.” he managed. “I get it.” But he didn’t get it. Not completely anyway. “When can I see him?” 

“I’m going to check with Kel about Johnny right now and then I’ll come back and stitch you up. Do you want me to send Joanne in again or do you need some time?” 

Roy swallowed. He’d already told the story once. He wasn’t sure if he could do it again. “Please give me a few minutes. Then I’m gonna need to talk to my wife.” 

  

******************************************** 

Brackett stared hard at Joe Early. “What did you say?” 

“Look, Desoto claims the man might have assaulted Gage.” Early rubbed his eyes, “He described parts of it to me. What he remembers seeing anyway. Something tells me there’s more to it and I’m worried. It sounded terrible. I can’t imagine what they went though.” 

“I was afraid of something like this. I was just in there with Johnny and he freaked out when I got too close. I hate to say this Joe, but Roy’s story holds water.” 

Early exhaled, “I think we should just keep this just between ourselves. It’s going to be tough enough for the both of them explaining what happened to the people that need to know. I don’t think the specifics are important to everyone. 

Brackett frowned. “Morton was there Joe. He’s a physician on record. He’s on his way to meet with us now. I don’t feel comfortable keeping the details from him.” He sat back and sighed. 

Gage was so unsettled in the examination room, spaced out one minute, violent the next, it rattled Brackett to replay it. And the bruise on his stomach was one of the worst Brackett had ever seen from a fist fight. 

“Johnny and Mike don’t really dig each other Kel.” 

“I know but that’s the way it has to be for now. Gage and Desoto need all of us.” Brackett didn’t want to push. He understood what his associate was saying, but hiding information just didn’t sit well with him. It never did. 

Gage and Morton always seemed to bring out the worst in each other. It wouldn’t be easy for him knowing Mike was fully aware of the drama. Still, it was the right thing to do. 

Early nodded, considered. “I’m sure the police are going to want to speak with them. This isn’t going to be fun.” 

Morton opened the door and Brackett gestured to a seat. “Take a seat Mike. Joe, maybe you should start at the beginning.” 

Bracket watched Morton’s face carefully during Early’s summary. His young associate didn’t always have the best bedside manner but he was an amazingly talented physician and a quick diagnostician. Mike fit in perfectly at the hospital. He didn’t take any crap but he sure knew how to dish it out. 

“I’m not sure how to react. I didn’t expect this.” Morton sat back and spread his hands on the table, stunned. “But Gage did seem so agitated earlier.” 

“Can you blame him?” Early responded, “Anyway, we’re still not certain of the facts.” 

“We need to find out.” Morton offered. 

Early looked beat and Brackett felt a pang of worry. He hoped the situation wasn’t too much for him. The older doctor read his mind. “Quit it Kel. I’m fine.” 

“If you say so,” Brackett smiled. 

“Maybe we should do an invasive examination while Gage is under,” Morton offered slowly. 

“Under,” Early looked surprised. “You sedated him? Was that wise?” 

“We had too. My jaw couldn’t take another punch.” Morton rubbed his face. “It gave us a chance to look him over anyway and get a summation of his injuries.” 

“We’re monitoring him Joe.” Brackett sighed, “Regardless, I don’t want to do any invasive test without Johnny’s consent. He’d never trust any of us again. Let me speak with him first.” 

“It’s not going to be easy Kel.” 

“With Gage, nothing ever is,” Brackett smiled. 

  

******************************************** 

The man in the bed pulled at his restraints. He didn’t acknowledge Crockett’s presence and the Lieutenant didn’t bother saying hello. Every fiber in his being wanted to knock the smug bastard around and break him in half for shooting one of his officers and torturing the two paramedics. 

He watched the prisoner silently for a moment before strolling around his room, rambling from the door to the window and then back again. Crockett walked slowly, shuffling his feet and tapping his heels on the Formica and canvassing his best ‘I don’t give a crap’ candor. 

He hoped it would make the mean fucker nervous. 

The man’s feet were draped over the edge of the bed, partially covered by a loose flowing sheet. The hospital’s usual practice was to tuck the extra material underneath the mattress but the man was too big and the sheet didn’t fit. His huge body seemed out of place and unstable atop the average sized hospital cot. 

Crockett couldn't hide his revulsion. 

The man was cuffed to the railing by his right wrist and his left wrist was embedded with two half-filled IV’s. One IV held blood and the other one was a mystery but Crockett didn’t give a shit what was in either of them. 

This man, this monster, was dangerous. 

He gestured to the metal cuff and smirked, “How’s that working out for you?” but the man only stared straight ahead sneering. He looked like he had a secret and that really pissed Crockett off. 

“Helloooo…” he spaced out his words slowly, “Pe-ter, Pe-ter, Pe-ter.” The man’s look of surprise was satisfying. “That’s right. It didn’t take us very long to figure you out.” 

Locating Ed Marlowe had been a bit tricky, but once found the former trainee revealed the man’s name easily enough – Peter Jones. Marlowe didn’t seem surprised that Jones had hurt Gage and Desoto. In fact, Crockett got the idea that the paramedic wannabe sort of approved of the deviant crime. 

When he explained the specifics of the situation to Marlowe he leered and responded, ‘Really? I sure hope Johnny Gage wasn’t hurt too badly,’ in a voice that basically told Crockett that Gage could be dead for all the fucks that Marlowe could give. 

“Mr. Jones. You are officially under arrest for the attempted murder of a police officer and the premeditated assault and kidnapping of two county employees. You are also being held on suspicion of involvement in the highway deaths of two other individuals. My officer read you your rights earlier. I’m just here to reiterate them and make sure you understand.” He assumed the most arrogant posture in his portfolio. “You’re going to be in jail for a very long time.” 

Jones looked at him blankly and then smiled, “How is Fireman Gage?” He flexed the fingers of his restrained wrist. “I miss him already.” 

Crockett’s blinked. Gage again. “That’s funny because I don’t think he misses you one bit.” 

“Don’t be so sure.” Jones hate filled smile chilled his blood. “I would have taught him so much. I should have killed Desoto first and then taken Gage. But I wanted Desoto to watch me use his boyfriend.” 

Crockett scowled at the vitriol in the man’s voice. He couldn’t imagine being stuck alone with Jones for five minutes, never mind being subjugated to him for hours while chained to a wall. 

“Desoto is married. He and Gage are friends,” Crockett started before the words sank in. He felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. All those bruises on the paramedic’s face and the way he didn’t want to be touched or stared at. It all came back to this creature on the bed. Crockett connected the dots. 

Cautiously, terrified of the response he might receive, he asked, “What did you do to Gage?” 

“Nothing much…” A shadow passed Jones dark features, “…yet.” 

Crockett tightened his fists. Maybe it was time he spoke with Gage and Desoto. 

********************************************* 

Brackett approached the paramedic carefully. Gage was still wrapped up in his Captain’s jacket, shivering despite the temperature in the room nearing seventy. He barely spared a glance for the pretty nurse when she replaced his IV bag. 

Gage nodded sleepily, “More sedatives?” 

Brackett shook his head. “No, I don’t think you need any more of those, do you? You’re dehydrated and you have to get your strength back.” Gage wasn’t going to like what he had to say, but Bracket was never one to mince words when it came to the health of his patients. “We were able to give you a more comprehensive examination.” 

Gage’s list of injuries was brutal but thankfully not life threatening: Mild concussion, contusions on his face and arms, a deeper bruise on his stomach, severe lacerations on his wrist and lower arm, two cracked ribs, and bite marks on his neck to name just a few. Although the physical scars would take a while to heal, it was Brackett’s opinion that the mental ones would probably take a while longer. 

Gage avoided Brackett’s eyes but when he spoke his voice held suspicion. “What does that mean?” 

“It wasn’t invasive. Johnny. I wanted to talk to you first...” he began but Gage interrupted. 

“I guess Roy told you.” 

The flat, dead voice did not belong to the sociable paramedic he knew so well but it did belong to a victim, and right now, that’s exactly what John Gage was. 

“No, Joe Early told me. Roy talked to Joe.” Brackett busied himself taking readings, waiting for Gage to let him know how to proceed. “Roy is worried about you. We all are. You need to trust us John. What he did to you…” 

“He didn’t rape me. That’s the big question, right? He wanted to but he didn’t.” Gage grabbed the bed railings and held on tight. Brackett’s heart broke for him. “He came really, really close though Doc.” 

“Johnny, that’s good.” Brackett was relieved. The things Roy had described to Joe Early were appalling. Gage chained up to a wall, beaten, making a deal to let a psychopath use him in order to keep his partner alive. 

“He was gonna kill Roy.” Gage yawned. 

“I know. Roy told us that too.” 

“If Roy didn’t know about Vince’s second gun…” Gage frowned, considered, “Is Vince okay? He looked pretty bad but Roy said…” he yawned yet again still fighting off the sedative. 

Brackett swallowed down a smile, “Vince is doing great.” In truth Brackett thought that Vince might just beat Gage out of the hospital. “And so is…” He bit back the words but Gage was on the ball as usual, sedative or not. 

“…the guy I shot?” He looked scared, lost and as thin as a wafer. 

“Yeah, he’s doing better. I heard you treated him at the scene.” 

Gage’s battered face darkened, “Someone had to.” 

“You stopped the bleeding. It was a small caliber bullet but judging by the location he could have gone sour fast. You may have saved his life.” 

“It seems only fair since I also could have ended it.” 

Brackett winced, “Yeah, you could have. But he could have ended your life and the lives of Vince and your partner. There are a lot of people who’d miss the three of you if that happened, me included.” 

Gage’s face was a mask, “I know.” 

“Do you feel guilty for shooting him?” Brackett wished he was also a psychiatrist. “Is that it John?” 

Brackett knew that some people saw Gage as cocky, and to a degree he certainly was. You couldn’t do the job he did and be a wallflower. He was also intelligent and brave and one of the best paramedics Brackett had ever trained. Sometimes the tougher parts of his personality clashed with lesser mortals like a bulldozer against a brick wall but there was also a vulnerability to the young paramedic that Brackett had noticed from day one; a desire to fit in, belong, and be helpful. And it was that aspect of Johnny that was on display right now. 

“I never fired a gun before today,” was all he said and Brackett didn’t press him. 

“You have nothing to feel guilty about.” He picked up Gage’s arm and examined his wrist noting with some satisfaction that although the paramedic flinched, he didn’t jump or pull away this time. “Looks like those cuffs were pretty tight.” Gage’s bony wrist was swollen and ugly and would probably look even worse tomorrow but it would heal fine in a few weeks, hopefully without any surgery. The bruises on his face were pretty wicked too. And as for those bites on his throat, Brackett shuddered. They spoke volumes for the abuse he suffered. 

“Yeah they were.” Gage swallowed. "I kept pulling." 

Brackett frowned. He removed the bandage on the paramedic's forearm and examined the new stitches. The skin was reddened and the cut would probably scar now but hopefully it wouldn't be too bad. He looked at the bites next and winced. "You’re running a slight temperature. I'm going to put some more antibiotics in the IV line for these Johnny. The human mouth is a gutter of germs and the antibiotics already in the line can sometimes mask a flare up." 

Gage nodded. He still seemed groggy. He squashed his face into his pillow and stretched but his body didn’t seem to be cooperating much. "Ugh." Gage tried again and moaned. "I hurt all over." 

"How's your stomach?" Brackett gestured to his hospital gown relieved that Johnny's wrinkled and bloodied T-shirt was finally gone. Morton removed the t-shirt himself after Gage was knocked out but he let the blue jacket remain. Brackett hadn't argued. His young protégé’s bedside manner seemed to be improving. 

"It’s still sore." 

“Your pressure is up. I think we can rule out internal bleeding. But I’m going to keep an eye on this for a bit. And the bite still looks okay but infection can set in fast so we’re watching that carefully too.” Brackett pulled the hospital gown down to cover the bruise, “You need rest.” 

“Crockett is around here someplace. I should probably talk to him. He keeps asking me questions.” 

“I saw him earlier. He’s already spoken to your partner." 

Gage’s fingers stopped moving. “He talked to Roy.” It wasn’t a question. He didn't sound upset just resigned. 

“I said he couldn’t speak with you until tomorrow.” 

“How did he take it?” 

“He wasn’t a very happy camper but at least he didn’t argue,” Brackett amended, “Much.” 

“I bet.” Gage nodded with the faint hint of a smile. 

“If you need someone to talk to Johnny I can make some suggestions. We have good people here.” 

“I’ll think about it,” Gage interrupted. “I’m sorry I wasn’t up front with you earlier Doc, it’s just..." His voice drifted. 

“You don’t have to explain,” Brackett nodded, “We figured something was wrong when you started throwing punches in the examining room.” 

Gage sat up quickly, remembering, “Did I hit Doctor Morton?” 

Brackett chuckled, “You sure did.” 

“The way I went at him he must think I’m crazy.” 

“I wouldn’t worry about it Johnny. Mike’s been thinking that for years.” 

Gage laughed lightly but at least it was genuine. “Tell him I’m sorry anyway.” 

“I’ll tell him if you promise to get some rest when I leave. Believe me, Mike understands. The only thing you are responsible for in this mess is saving your friend’s life, got it?” Brackett made sure Gage met his eyes. “I mean it Johnny. This lunatic had a gun and he used it. And those marks around Roy’s throat were pretty bad. If he’d continued pressing for any longer he could have killed him. Make no mistake.” 

Gage asked, “When can I see Roy?” 

“Does tomorrow sound good?” 

Gage twisted his mouth. Anything was better than a quick acceptance. If Johnny quibbled just a bit Brackett would hold firm on his decision but it would still make him feel a hell of a lot better about the young man lying on the bed in front of him if he didn’t give in quietly. 

“Why can’t I see him now? Which room is he in?” 

Brackett smiled. Gage looked like he was getting ready to swing his legs off the bed with or without removing his IV lines. Brackett held out his arm quickly to stop him and the paramedic slid back against his pillows. “Wow.” Gage murmured, his breath increasing, “Oh wow." 

Brackett pulled up a chair and sat next to the bed. “Tomorrow is for the best John. I know you want to see your partner. And Roy keeps asking to see you too. But you need time to recover and allow your mind to heal as well as your body. Sleep tonight and then tomorrow I’ll let you see him. You have my word.” 

“If you expect me to wait until my mind heals Doc, I probably won’t see Roy for at least six months.” Gage fumed. “The man that hurt us is getting well somewhere in this hospital. Someone operated on him. Someone removed the bullet I put inside him. He’s not going to have any side effects.” 

“That’s certainly possible but I wouldn’t count on it. They did a lot of work on him.” 

Gage’s face was cloudy, “They did a lot of work.” He raged softly. “I watched him try to kill Roy. He beat the crap out of me. I agreed to let him…” He shuddered hard. Brackett could see his entire body convulse. “…use me and…” he gulped, “Damn." 

Brackett noticed the tight swallow, mesmerized at how the area near the bandaged bite marks compressed when Johnny’s throat moved. “Yes, he did. And yes, you did.” 

Gage’s voice was barely a whisper. “What does that make me?” 

Brackett touched his shoulder gently, “A very good friend.” 

******************************************** 

The night held memories and fears that Johnny was afraid to face. He was terrified of seeing the man in his dreams and reliving the nightmare all over again. He sure hoped Roy wasn’t dreaming tonight. His partner had suffered enough trauma already. 

Johnny considered turning his television set back on but he’d already been told once by the duty nurse to ‘lower it’ and he didn’t want to risk her coming in again and seeing him playing the late, late show at an unacceptable volume. He knew he needed to get some rest, but sleep, for all its appreciative qualities, suddenly seemed like a very bad idea. 

The door creaked and Johnny eyed it suspiciously. Vital signs time already. 

He knew Brackett was worried about internal bleeding in his stomach but considering that his blood pressure had stabilized hours ago, Johnny was pretty sure that ship had thankfully sailed. 

“Hey Johnny,” Dixie poked her head around the corner. “How’s my favorite patient doing this evening?” She sat on the edge of his mattress and smoothed down his blanket. “You know you guys really had me worried.” She touched his jaw gently and studied his face. “Just look at you.” 

“I’m all right Dix.” Johnny murmured. He wondered how much she knew about what happened to him and Roy. “You better not let Roy hear you calling me your favorite patient again or he might just get up and walk right out of here.” 

“I don’t think he’d get very far with two IV’s in his arm.” 

Their banter was easy like always and for a brief moment Johnny forgot the reason he was at Rampart in the first place. A virus would have been better or even a snake bite. He squeezed his eyes shut and frowned. 

“What’s bothering you handsome?” She rubbed his shoulder gently. 

Dixie was his champion from the first day they met. She defended him to Brackett, supported his plans, laughed at his foibles. Johnny adored her as much as all the other paramedics and when she called him her favorite he always secretly believed it was true. Just seeing her behind the nurse’s desk in the emergency room was enough to lift his spirits. And when there was a fresh pot of coffee brewing Johnny’s day was made. But seeing her now made him anxious. He felt like a completely different person; one that he didn’t like very much. 

"“I know you’re having a rough time.”

“Sort of.” Johnny started to explain and then clammed up tight. She knew. She had to know. “Who told you?” He wanted to scream or hide or both. He was sick inside. He felt helpless. His nerves tingled. “Dixie…” he sniffled miserably and it felt so weird to nearly lose control. 

“Nobody told me anything Johnny. Everyone’s keeping pretty mum. You’d swear Dr. Brackett had a gag order in place on this floor.” She patted his hand. “Anyway, I don’t have to know the specifics to see that you’re hurting. Let me help you.” 

Her smile was bright and beautiful. Johnny tried to smile back and instead he started to cry. 

“Um, Dix…” When he sobbed, she pulled him into her arms and when he sobbed harder she pulled him closer. He didn’t even think about moving away. It felt good to say nothing at all and still be completely understood. Dixie didn’t ask him any questions. She didn’t make any comments. She didn’t check his pulse. He slumped against her and she whispered ‘hush’ and ‘it’ll be okay’ but she never once asked him why he was crying. Her gentle hands patted his back and stroked his hair and waited until he was able to pull himself back together. 

“I’m sorry.” Johnny whispered. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for Johnny,” She smiled at him again. “I’m off duty now. I can stay with you for a while.” 

When he didn’t respond, she added, “You had a very long day and you’re obviously exhausted. Can I get you something to help you sleep?” 

“No,” Johnny shook his head, “No more sedatives please.” He lay back on his pillows and held her hand. It was the first real contact he'd initiated today other than with his partner earlier in the basement. He swallowed. "Is Roy alright?" 

“Well, he’s worried about you. Joanne was here but she went home to be with the kids. He’s probably sleeping now." She smiled again. "Just close your eyes. Someone will be here when you wake up." 

Johnny didn't remember falling asleep. When he opened his eyes for the first-time Dixie was sitting in the chair by his bed. The second time she was gone and a nurse he didn’t recognize was checking his vitals. She smiled at him and he yawned in her face. 

He closed his eyes again. 

The dreams came fast and furious. 

_The man was holding him down._

__

_Johnny pushed against his bulk and tried to free his wrist from the handcuff. Blood dripped down his arm and onto his face and the man shook him until he nearly blacked out. The man’s hands moved over him and Johnny tried to fight him off. He kicked and shoved but the man remained on top of him. It was getting difficult to breathe._

__

_He saw Roy bleeding out on the floor and stopped fighting. Hopefully it would all be over soon. The man caressed his hair and licked across the bruise on Johnny’s forehead._

__

_“Tell me you want this!!” The man struggled to unbutton his pants and started tugging them down over his hips. “Say yes!”_

_He had to do this for his partner. He had to do this for Roy._

********************************************

Johnny was sweating in his sleep and mumbling Roy’s name like a mantra. 

His arm was stretched high off the hospital bed, mimicking the chained-to-the-cement-wall pose he’d held for his abuser and his long fingers were wrapped around the IV pole hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Johnny’s other arm lay flat at his side. He remained perfectly still except for a slight tremor scrambling inside his body, a harsh reminder of a force that existed now only in his dreams. 

The words spoken in his nightmare chilled Roy to the core. “…for Roy.” 

“Hey,” Roy’s raspy voice cracked, “Wake up. I’m okay. It’s just a dream.” He squinted to try and see the wall clock. Time was messing with his head. It seemed like forever since he last saw his friend. 

Johnny looked terrible. The bruising on his face was quickly starting to color, lending delicate rainbow shadows to his already angular features. His lips were swollen and torn. “You're safe.” Roy resisted the urge to touch him. Johnny seemed breakable and worn out even in sleep. He noticed Johnny was still wearing Cap’s jacket and swallowed down a lump in his throat, “Hey, Junior.” 

Johnny opened his eyes. He zeroed in on Roy and pulled his arm down from the IV pole. “Roy? What time is it? When did you get here?” He pushed himself up on his elbows stiffly and flexed his fingers. “Are you okay? I was starting to think there was some kind of conspiracy to keep us apart.” 

“Yeah, same here,” Roy smiled when Johnny yawned. His sleepy eyes and voice were endearing. “It’s nearly four. They kept the light off in the room to help you sleep. Dixie let me visit.” 

In truth, he had begged Dixie to let him see Johnny. He wasn’t sure how much she knew about what happened while they were missing but one thing was certain, Dixie always found out sooner or later. And by the achingly sad look on her face when Roy asked her if he could see his partner for the hundredth time after she started her shift, no doubt about it, Dixie had probably discovered the truth. 

“Well, it is officially tomorrow anyway and that’s how long Brackett said I had to wait to see you.” Johnny twisted his mouth into a half smile and checked out his partner. “Your voice sounds worse than when you had your tonsils out.” 

“You look like you jumped and missed the life-net.” Roy smiled. They both laughed and for a moment it almost felt like old times. He remembered seeing Johnny in the hospital last year after he’d been bitten by a rattlesnake. There were a few tense moments when they thought he might not survive but in the end his partner’s recovery was speedy and worry free. When Roy and Chet walked in to visit, Johnny’s happy grin brightened up the room like a Christmas tree. 

“What did the doctors say?” Johnny asked cautiously. When he sat up Cap’s jacket slipped off his shoulders and Roy had to look away from the clean white bandage covering the angry bite marks on his friend’s tanned throat. Of all the injuries Johnny had suffered this one bothered Roy the most. 

Johnny must have noticed his discomfort because he quickly covered back up with the jacket. His face reddened. He twisted his fingers in the blanket and sighed, “Sorry Roy.” 

"Nothing to be sorry about," Roy responded. He made a decision on the spot to never to look away from his friend again. Johnny deserved better. He spun his wheelchair closer. It was comforting when his partner didn’t back away. “My head is still hurting but it’s not that bad on the whole. There’s no serious damage.” he shrugged at the memory. “I can’t believe that bullet only grazed me.” 

“Huh, you and me both,” Johnny frowned. “Are they letting you out?” 

“I don’t think so. I got a concussion which means I’ll probably be here for a couple more days. And my larynx is bruised.” He watched Johnny pull Cap’s jacket up under his chin. The simple action tugged at Roy's emotions. Every horrible thing that happened was still very present between them and yet also belonged a lifetime ago. “We’ll both be out of here and home soon.” 

"Yeah, I know." 

Johnny’s eyes were rimmed and dark. Roy hated seeing him look so defenseless. The bastard’s filthy hands had played all over his partner’s body, hurting him, tormenting him, trying to use him… 

“Damn it!” he said without thinking, cursing inwardly when Johnny flinched. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted.” 

“Don’t worry about me Roy, I’m okay.” Johnny said, but Roy knew him better than that. After all that happened yesterday, and all that nearly happened, Johnny was a long way from okay. 

“Right…” Roy murmured. 

“Well, I’m trying to get there,” Johnny said stubbornly and Roy didn’t argue. 

“Did you talk to Joanne?” 

"Yeah she was here earlier. She wanted to see you but I told her to wait, maybe, and give you some time to recover.” 

Johnny stared at him, waiting for something, judging him maybe, Roy couldn’t be sure. “Yeah, um thanks for that.” 

“I…I told her what happened to us.” 

“Roy.” 

“When I saw her again everything just poured out of me. I didn’t mean to tell her. It just happened.” 

Joanne had been shocked and horrified and sad when Roy explained how the man had abused them. She said, ‘Oh my god, poor Johnny, oh my god Roy, no, no, no’ and he hugged her as tight as he was able to while she cried. 

“I should have waited.” 

Johnny’s pale face showed surprise at first, then acceptance. He sighed and said, “It’s all good Roy. She’s your wife. You had to tell her. Don’t fret about it, please?” and then started to fidget. 

Of course, Johnny would be nervous. Joanne knew. The doctors knew. The police knew. And 51 would probably know soon too since Dwyer and Fitzpatrick had answered the call at the scene. 

“I just started talking to her and she was so worried. I should have just shut up.” Roy tried to bury his guilt but his partner beat him to it. 

“It seems sort of silly to worry about who knows what now doesn’t it? Considering only yesterday I wasn’t even sure we’d get a chance at having a today.” 

Roy fought back a grin at the Johnny-like explanation. “I just think I should have given you time to tell everyone at your own pace.” Despite his outgoing demeanor, Roy knew that his friend was a very private person. He wished he’d kept his mouth shut and let Johnny be the one to reveal what happened. After all, the worst of what went down was centered squarely on his narrow shoulders. 

“You’d probably be waiting a heck of a long time if you did that.” Johnny allowed. He folded his fingers in the familiar blue fabric. “I did talk to Brackett.” He laughed grimly. “He offered me a shrink.” 

“It might not be a bad idea considering what you went through,” Roy admitted, “But you’ve got time to decide.” 

“Yeah, well,” Johnny admitted through lowered eyes. “I’m thinking about it.” 

If anyone had asked Roy last week if his partner would ever agree to seeing a psychiatrist Roy would have said no way, not a chance, it wasn’t Johnny’s style. The very idea that he was considering professional help was surprising. 

“I mean, I don’t like the idea much, you know me, but the department might demand it anyway, for both of us, and, well…” he sighed and then promptly changed the subject, “Hey, how did you know about Vince’s second gun?” 

Roy frowned, “I saw it when we were at the accident yesterday. I didn’t have a clue it was there before then. When I came to in the basement and saw Vince lying right across from me I suddenly remembered the gun was there and everything just clicked.” 

Johnny’s face darkened but he shook it off quickly, “That was really good thinking. It probably saved all our lives.” 

Roy shuddered hard. So much could have gone wrong. He screwed up royally. He didn’t deserve any praise from Johnny. 

“I dropped the gun when I found it. It slipped out of my hands.” The blood from his head wound was everywhere, coating the weapon and greasing his fingers. “If he hurt you more…if he was able to….” Roy couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. “It would have been my fault for messing things up!” 

“In what universe did you mess up Roy? You did great.” Johnny stared at him astonished. “The bastard who beat us, he’s the one to blame.” 

“Peter Jones.” Roy replied dully. Saying the name out loud made him want to punch his fist through the wall. 

“What?” 

“That’s the man’s name Johnny. Peter Jones. Crockett told me.” 

“Oh…” Johnny licked his lips and fumbled with the jacket’s zipper. “Peter Jones. What a dull name for a monster.” 

“Crockett found Ed Marlowe. He said Ed was living in a shelter, sort of off the grid.” 

The detective had also mentioned Marlowe’s taciturn approval at what Jones had done to them. It shocked Roy to think that a fellow firefighter could be so cruel and full of hate. After all the shit kicked in with his failed paramedic training Marlowe was not Roy’s biggest fan at all but he absolutely loathed Johnny. “He gave them Jones’ name.” 

“He did,” Johnny’s voice was quiet, “Ed hates me Roy. I can’t imagine he was very upset.” 

“Yeah, Crockett didn’t think so either,” Roy responded and Johnny didn’t react, “Since he bailed on the department he hasn’t had a lot of luck.” 

“Forgive me if I have no sympathy to spare right now,” Johnny raged, “Can you imagine the lies he told that guy? The way he must have presented us? We were fair to him Roy. He fumbled everything on his own.” 

Roy wondered if Marlowe really believed that he and Johnny were lovers and that they conspired together to knock him out of the paramedic program or if he was just sounding off because he was bitter and angry. Either way Roy had been unnerved by his conversation with Crockett. He wondered exactly how much Ed Marlowe was involved in what happened to them. Somehow, he didn’t believe it all began and ended with Peter Jones. 

“Jones was in the county mental ward a few months back. According to the logs, Ed was a frequent visitor." 

"I don't care who he visited, although,” Johnny paused, even bandaged and sore his mind was racing, “That rescue yesterday? That woman who gave her daughter the aspirin? Brackett said she just got out of County, Roy." 

Roy suddenly remembered the loud noise that Mrs. Cooper had blamed on her cat, and the later sensation that someone was standing behind him in the hospital cafeteria. 

“Yesterday I had the feeling all day that I was being watched, first at Mrs. Cooper’s house and then when we were having lunch at the hospital. At the accident scene, I thought I saw someone staring at us from the top of the ravine.” Roy wanted to knock himself in the head, "Jesus. I should have said something." 

Johnny looked at him directly, "Why didn't you?" 

It was a fair question to ask and Roy wasn’t really sure how to respond. “I don’t know Johnny. Honest to god I thought I was just being paranoid.” If only he’d pointed it out to somebody, anybody, maybe reported the problem, or mentioned the feeling to Johnny they might have been able to stop the man before he attacked. They might have even been able to keep the nightmare from happening in the first place. 

“I should have said something.” 

“I know what’s running through your mind Pally and you’re wrong. There was no way you could have stopped him. You might have delayed him, maybe given him time to kill more people, but not stopped him. He wanted to hurt us too badly.” Johnny buried himself in the jacket. “This wasn’t your fault.” 

“I knew something was strange with Mr. Gregor’s atrophied arm. Just like the hiker we rescued with Ed! I don’t know how Jones was involved with that but I bet he was! And Nancy Markham’s accident happened near the lighthouse road where the hiker fell.” 

Johnny whistled out slowly. “He was playing a game with us Roy! Beating yourself up over it now isn’t going to change what happened. You remembered Vince’s gun. You saved our lives!” 

“Me?” Roy interrupted. “I couldn’t even hold on to the god damn gun!” The image of Johnny standing shaky yet determined moments before catching the gun was emblazoned in Roy’s thoughts along with his partner’s collapse after the shooting. “But you were incredible.” 

“Roy, come on.” 

"The way you stood there!" 

“Don’t make me into a hero, okay?" 

"You caught the gun!" 

"I shot a man!” 

“He would have killed us Johnny!” 

“Don’t you think I know that?!” 

The sudden silence following the outbursts consumed Roy. The echo of his heartbeat thumped as loud and ragged in his chest as Johnny’s breathing had sounded in the damp horrible room. 

“I don’t want to fight with you of all people, now, okay?” Roy kept his words firm. 

“Yeah, same here,” Johnny’s voice was tight and strained, "I knew what he wanted to do to me and I was scared…to…death. I couldn’t stop shaking. I could feel him against me.” He breathed in and out slowly. “How much did you see?” 

Roy had worried over this question all night. He knew that lying to his friend or trying to sugar coat his words was simply not an option. Johnny would see right through him. He started with the truth, “I saw enough.” 

Johnny appeared vulnerable in a way he rarely did. He wrapped Cap's jacket tighter across his chest and then let it fall loosely around him. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to Roy. I know it wasn’t easy for you but I think I need to know how much you saw. It’s sort of making me crazy." 

“No, no, it’s all right.” Roy sighed. Johnny was looking at him expectantly, his cheeks slightly colored from embarrassment and rage. “I knew what he was doing to you and what he wanted to do to you. I saw him hurt you. I heard the way he called you Fireman.” He noticed Johnny shiver at the word and suddenly Roy felt anxious about reliving the nightmare out loud. He couldn’t begin to imagine how Johnny endured it. “The way he spoke to you was so disgusting. I wanted to shove his face through the god damn wall!” 

“Roy,” Johnny moved closer and touched Roy’s hand. His non-bandaged wrist looked thin. Had it always been that way? He remembered again how ravenous Johnny had been yesterday and how loudly his stomach had growled. 

“He was trying to take you apart, destroy you, and it terrified me. I knew that if he did that, if he broke you into pieces and got what he wanted from you, I would never be able to put you back together again.” Roy's voice sped up, “You made a deal with him. I heard you beg for my life. I knew what you were offering to let him do to you!” He grabbed Johnny’s hand, “He was messing you up and you wouldn’t tell him to stop! You wouldn’t tell him 'no' Johnny! Why wouldn’t you just tell him no!!?” 

“Stop,” Johnny warned, “Just back off." He tried to pull his hand away but Roy grabbed it back. 

"Why would you agree to let him do that? That monster could have killed me at any time. He could have kept hurting you over and over and using me as leverage. I’ve only known you for a few years Johnny and yet I know without a doubt that if it came down to my life you’d let that bastard torture you every damn time!” 

“Don’t do this.” 

“You know I’m right.” 

“Roy…” Johnny murmured. 

“God damn it you know I’m right!” 

“When I woke up you weren't there and I thought he killed you. Then when I finally saw you, there was so much blood that I thought for sure you were dead!” Johnny licked his lips nervously but when he spoke again his voice was steady. “You’re my best friend and you’re my partner. You’re a huge part of my life. You’re my family Roy. There was no other option for me, none at all. Do you understand?” 

“That bastard didn’t give you an option!” 

“I need you to listen,” Johnny’s voice trembled but he didn’t back down. Roy wished he could wrap his partner up in the blue jacket and keep him safe from evil men like Peter Jones along with fires and snakes and viruses too. “Jones was never going to stop hurting me. But for a little while at least I could stop him from hurting you.” 

Roy stared, dumbfounded. “You had no guarantees!” 

“I didn’t need any guarantees!” Johnny’s words made sense but Roy wasn’t ready to hear them. “Please try to understand.” 

“Damn it Johnny!” 

“You’d have done the same for me.” Johnny spoke slowly, deliberately, his confidence building with every word and Roy knew without a doubt that his friend was correct. "Come on partner..." 

Johnny looked bruised and brave, exactly the way he’d looked in that unrelenting basement and Roy couldn’t pull his eyes away. 

“You’d have done the same for me.” 

“Absolutely," he wiped at his tears and held Johnny’s hand tightly in his own, “I would have done the same for you.” 

******************************************** 

Mike Morton opened the door to John Gage’s hospital room slowly. He knew his patient was probably feeling a bit reticent about discussing further treatment options considering the nature of the recent violence he’d endured and Morton didn’t want to push. Still, he was willing to give it a shot. It might do Gage a world of good to talk to a professional. Morton knew he wasn't Gage’s favorite doctor on staff but the paramedic was practiced enough to keep his attitude in check on most occasions and Morton hoped that today was one of those days. 

The entire story of Gage and Desoto’s abduction from beginning to end was appalling. It was hard to shake the image of Gage wearing his Captain’s blue uniform jacket sitting bruised and lost on the examination table and staring right through him. Morton rubbed his jaw tenderly. The punch a few minutes later was memorable too. 

When Brackett explained that Gage had not been sexually assaulted Morton’s first reaction was a slightly disbelieving, “Are you sure?” and Brackett’s subsequent frown and response of, “He told me to my face he wasn’t Mike. Johnny’s never lied to me before,” made Morton feel like a heel. To be honest, while he was relieved that Gage had not been raped, Morton found that difficult to believe considering the extent of his injuries and his frazzled mental state. Later, when more details emerged, Morton was enraged that someone had tried to destroy John Gage in such a vile way. It was unthinkable. 

He walked into the room and stopped short. 

Gage was fast asleep in bed with his right arm slung over his eyes. He looked peaceful compared to the nightmares that the duty nurse had reported on his chart from earlier in the morning. It was good to see him finally getting some rest. 

His partner didn’t look nearly as comfortable. 

Desoto was sleeping at Gage's bedside in his wheelchair with the blue uniform jacket folded up like a pillow cushioning the side of his face. His mouth twisted lightly in his sleep and when he moved to scratch his lip Morton could easily make out the dark brooding handprints circling his throat like a Christmas wreath. 

He shut the door louder than he intended and Gage jumped awake. He still looked completely knocked out. “Um, hey…” 

Morton winced, “Sorry John.” 

“Roy’s sleeping.” Gage explained the obvious with a slight nod in his partner’s direction. 

“He is at that.” Morton wasn’t sure how to proceed. Gage never failed to confound him. The man could be equal parts infuriating and intimidating depending on his mood and Mike had a feeling he was not going to be any different today. 

“He should be in bed John. He needs rest.” 

Desoto breathed in and out calmly, oblivious to the developing argument. 

“He’s resting here,” Gage countered. 

One look at Gage’s pale battered face and Morton wished he didn’t have to play the bad guy. 

“I need to examine you John and Joe is probably on his way right now to examine Roy.” 

It surprised Morton to see Desoto with the blue jacket this time around and not Gage. He thought for sure the younger paramedic would still be using the garment as a security blanket. 

“You can examine me with Roy here, right?” Gage licked across his swollen lip, “I don’t wanna wake him up yet.” 

“Look,” Morton sighed, “I know you’re worried about your partner after what happened and trust me when I say I understand how bad it was for the both of you. I know that what you went through was difficult…” 

“No, you don’t.” Gage’s interruption was firm. 

Morton considered his approach. Sometimes Gage made him crazy. Still, he’d never seen the young man appear quite so obliterated before. The paramedic held his eyes for a small bit before looking away. 

Gage had been chained to a wall for hours while some psychopath played with him like a child’s toy. He’d been tortured, threatened, and subjected to mind games, nearly raped and forced to shoot a man to save his life and the lives of two others. On top of all that he treated the man who victimized him after the shooting and kept him alive at the scene until help arrived. It was astonishing and horrific and it angered Morton to even think about how scared and hopeless Gage and Desoto must have felt. To even hint that on some level he understood sounded ludicrous and he knew it. 

He took a deep breath and started over. “You’re absolutely right. I don’t have a clue what you went through but I want to try and understand and help you if I can. I wish to god you didn’t have to suffer what you did; you and Desoto both. If you really want me to examine you with Roy here, that’s fine. Or I’ll be happy to wait and come back later.” 

Gage’s expression was guarded. His nose twitched. He said simply, “I’m sorry I hit you yesterday.” 

Morton sighed. He’d forgotten what an unbelievably contrary bastard John Gage could be. “You took me by surprise that’s all. I’m still feeling it today.” He rubbed his jaw for emphasis. 

“Well, sure, but you took me by surprise first with all your poking and prodding.” 

“Right,” Morton shook his head, “You know Roy needs to rest John.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Gage yawned and stretched as best he could without possibly breaking. 

“Let me take him back to his own room.” Morton offered. 

“Um, okay, but...” 

“Can’t a guy get any decent sleep in a hospital?” Desoto’s voice sounded painful and rough. He sat up stiffly and looked at both men in turn trying to figure out exactly what he’d missed. 

“Morning Roy,” Gage looked at Morton pointedly, “Sorry if Mike here woke you up.” 

“Ah, that’s okay Doc. I need to get back to my room anyway in case Joanne calls. You can check out my partner.” He tossed Gage the blue jacket. Gage held it for a second before throwing it back. Desoto looked at him questioningly, “Johnny?” 

“You keep it. Okay?” 

Desoto nodded. Something passed between them that Morton didn’t quite catch but it didn’t matter because he probably wasn’t supposed to understand it anyway. “I’ll make sure Cap gets it when the guys visit tomorrow.” 

It almost sounded like a warning, a way to let his friend know that more visitors were on their way, probably wanting explanations and demanding answers, but Gage didn’t take it as one. He smiled at Desoto softly, the crooked grin sad and yet familiar and Morton found himself smiling back, “I honestly can’t wait to see them.” 

********************************************* 

“Well, John, I’d love to say you’re looking better than when I last saw you but, hey, I’m an honest man,” Lieutenant Crockett hoped his smile was encouraging. 

Gage looked like a walking billboard for death warmed over. 

His jet-black hair was plastered against his forehead in damp ringlets and the dark circles under his eyes stretched nearly down to his chin. There was a soft sheen of sweat covering his body and a slight tremor in his limbs. He seemed wasted and rough and barely keeping it together. 

Crockett twisted his mouth angrily. Damn that bastard Jones. Five days later, instead of looking better, Gage was looking markedly worse. 

“I’m okay.” 

Sure, you are kid, Crockett mused. “I wanted to let you know that the D.A. will be pressing charges against Peter Jones for attempted murder, kidnapping and assault. We’re still investigating the car accident but there will probably be additional charges when that’s completed. Shooting Jones was clearly a case of self-defense so there will be no charges filed against you.” He watched the younger man’s face for a reaction and didn’t get any. “Did you hear me John?” 

“I heard you.” 

Gage struggled to sit up, but couldn’t quite reach the top of his pillows. It seemed to Crockett that a stray breeze could knock him over. He noted the increased amount of IV bags hooked up to the paramedic’s arms and frowned. Brackett had mentioned something to the detective earlier about his patient battling a pretty strong infection and that he shouldn’t stress him out too much. His eyes fell upon the emesis basin near the top of the bed. The nightmare wasn’t over for Gage by a long-shot. 

“Are we going to have to testify?” 

He wished he could tell Gage that he didn’t have to testify but that wasn’t going to happen. He was both a key witness and a victim. The paramedic’s face was still battered, his body still sore, and his mind arguably still jumbled. It was a god damn shame. He said, “That’s one possibility,” and Gage’s expression fell to the floor, “but the other one is that Jones cuts a deal to spare himself a trial.” 

“He won’t do that. He’s not embarrassed. He thinks he did the right thing, the noble thing.” Gage squirmed in his hospital bed. “Jones punished me and Roy because his friend Ed was dumped from the paramedic program and he wants the world to know all about it.” 

“Don’t be so sure of that,” Crockett tried, but Gage was dead on in his assessment. Peter Jones was one sick puppy; deluded, arrogant, and dangerous. 

“Look, it’s getting late in the day and I know you’re tired...” 

“I’m not tired,” Gage fibbed lightly. 

“…but I have to ask you a few more questions.” 

Gage watched him warily but he didn’t seem in danger of losing it so Crockett pressed on, “Did you know the suspect, Peter Jones prior to this incident?” 

“What?” Gage’s voice shook slightly, “Did he say that I knew him?” 

Crockett decided to tread carefully. Gage’s only crime in the whole damn mess was being reviled by Marlowe and desired by Jones. It was not an enviable position to be in. 

“No, he didn’t. John, these are just standard questions. You only need to answer yes or no. I got your signature on Roy’s statement yesterday and there are no pending charges in the shooting. I just need you to fill in some of the blanks on your own statement.” 

“No,” Gage offered dully, “I didn’t know him before the incident.” Crockett didn’t miss the emphasis he put on the last word. 

“Talking about it this way, incident, charges, testifying and all that, may sound silly to you but it’s the best we got John. Just bear with me a little bit longer and you won’t have to see me again for a long time.” 

Gage offered. “Let’s just get on with it.” 

“Wanna get rid of me that quickly huh?” Crockett mused. “Are you and Desoto lovers?” 

Gage sighed, “No.” 

“Is there a reason Ed Marlowe might have thought that way?” Crockett pushed. 

“Am I on trial here Lieutenant? Do I have to speak for Ed Marlowe’s state of mind too? I don’t know why he thought Roy and I were sleeping together and it doesn’t bother me that he did. What bothers me is that because Ed was bitter about flopping out of the paramedics he lied to a psychotic man and made him dangerous to the point where he went after me and Roy and innocent people got caught in the crossfire!” 

“Okay, John, I understand,” Crockett tried to diffuse the situation but Gage kept on talking. It seemed the only thing he could do was sit back and let him have his say. God knew he deserved it. 

“You weren’t there.” Gage lowered his eyes. “Jones terrorized us. He was strangling Roy. He didn’t even need a gun to subdue me. He only needed my partner.” 

Crockett exhaled slowly. The entire situation was a mess. “I’m sorry John. I really am. If it’s any consolation, Jones will pay for what he did. I swear he will.” 

Gage nodded and rubbed his eyes, “I’m not angry at you. I’m grateful that you found us. I was going out of my mind sitting in that room with him staring at me.” 

Crockett nodded. He interviewed Jones twice since the rescue and both times he spoke about Gage incessantly. There wasn’t any doubt about it in Crockett’s mind, “He’s obsessed with you.” 

Gage smiled tightly, “Lucky me.” 

Crockett thought back to the first time he met the two paramedics at the scene of an officer involved shooting, an undercover sting operation gone horribly wrong. Desoto rushed to the aid of his wounded detective while Gage set about helping the critically injured shooter - much to Crockett’s dismay. The firemen didn’t differentiate between the good guys and the bad guys like he did. They just wanted to save lives. Gage and Desoto were nice people who didn’t deserve what Peter Jones did to them. He only hoped that when the smoke cleared they’d both be able to get on with their lives. 

“He chained you, beat the crap out of you, made lurid demands and tried to kill Desoto right in front of you?” Crockett didn’t want to rush him but If there was a way to speed up the process for Gage’s benefit then he was damn well gonna give it a shot. “Then Desoto tossed you Vince’s second gun and you shot Peter Jones. Does that sound about right to you?” 

“Yeah, that’s it, maybe…well, sure, I guess.” Gage agreed haltingly. “But,” He looked like he wanted to say more but didn’t. Maybe he really was as tired as he looked. “Whatever works.” 

“I know I might be making it sound easier than it obviously was.” 

“You are,” Gage met his eyes and Crockett saw pain reflected there and also anger. “But that’s okay. I just want this to be finished.” 

Crockett smiled reassuringly but Gage didn’t return the confidence. He leaned back against his pillows and his body drifted into the sheets. Crockett’s eyes were drawn to the bandage obscuring part of his neck. He had seen the medical report on Gage’s injuries. The crazy bastard bit him. He sighed, “Look kid, no matter what he did, you’re still you. And I’m not going to let him bother you again.” 

Crockett patted Gage’s shoulder gently before he left. The lingering shudder beneath his fingertips was haunting. He realized with a start that he’d lied unintentionally when he told the paramedic he wouldn’t have to see him again for a while. He’d be visiting him one more time later in the evening to get a signature on his statement and then maybe Gage could start putting this business behind him. 

******************************************** 

Peter Jones watched the nurse adjust the drip on his IV line. When he smiled at her she didn’t smile back and that was fine with him. Fake niceties in other people made him burn. This nurse meant nothing to him but she was still a professional care-giver so the lack of any kindness on her part was impressive. He looked at her name tag. Nurse McCall was one tough cookie. 

“How is Fireman Gage?” he asked but he really didn’t expect an answer. None of the other nurses or doctors had acknowledged him when he inquired about the paramedic. He wondered again how many of them had slept with him. “Please tell him that I asked as to his well-being. It seems I owe him my life.” 

“John Gage’s medical condition is none of your business. And I’m not your messenger pigeon so stop asking me questions and harassing my nurses. The police are coming tomorrow to move you to the county prison hospital. Your condition has stabilized enough that you won’t be with us much longer.” 

If they were moving him to the prison hospital tomorrow that meant he had to get to Gage’s room tonight. The hospital grid was easy to manipulate. It wouldn’t take him long to find the quickest route to Gages bed. 

His eyes drifted to the restraint on his left wrist. The handcuff was tight but not much of a challenge. He’d been controlled by much stronger bindings during the war and managed to escape. It aroused Jones to imagine how excited and afraid Gage would feel when he saw him again. 

They’d walk out of the hospital together. And if not, then neither of them would walk out of the hospital at all. 

“Your wish is my command Nurse McCall,” Jones kept the smile on his face until the she left his room. 

Escaping would not be easy but Jones had been in tougher situations and managed to come out on top. He’d see Gage soon and finish what he started.  
******************************************** 

Roy sat in his wheelchair at the nurse’s station and glanced down the long hallway for the third time in an hour, fidgeting in place like a nervous freshman at a high school dance. Johnny was still here, in the room at the end of the hall and according to the doctors his friend would probably be under direct medical supervision for at least another week. 

Dr. Early decided that since Roy was lucky enough to have an amazing wife who was ready and willing to take care of him, he’d release Roy a bit early with the understanding that he might convalesce faster if he was recuperating at home with his family. Joanne was overjoyed at the news that she could pick him up in the morning and the kids had yelled into the phone loud enough to burst his eardrums when he told them. 

Roy couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. 

Nearly a week at Rampart as a patient was way more than enough. It would probably be another week or so before he could fully return to work as a paramedic but his excitement for that moment was already starting to build. Roy definitely preferred giving medical care to receiving it and he was pretty sure that Johnny felt the same way. 

He frowned and started shuffling through a pile of file folders sitting on top of the front desk. The duty nurse smiled at him exasperated and pulled them out of his grasp. “Sir, please.” 

“Sorry…” Roy murmured. He hadn’t told his partner yet that he was leaving. He knew Johnny would be happy for him, but that wasn’t really the issue at all. 

The change in Johnny’s appearance when Roy visited him the night before was shocking. His skin was sallow and his dark hair was hanging limply across his forehead. He looked tired and lifeless, just generally out of sorts in every way, like someone very ill might look. His arms moved listlessly across the bed resting briefly atop his belly before flopping back at his sides. The IV-lines drilling into his inner elbow accentuated his arm’s pallor and thinness, making Johnny resemble a breakable marionette. 

His partner didn’t want to eat and he could barely keep his eyes open. Roy wasn’t sure what to make of the situation and it scared him. 

Johnny being Johnny didn’t want him to worry. He brushed off his condition as something that a little bit of antibiotics would clear up in no time, but Roy wasn’t convinced. Later that evening when Brackett came to visit him he confirmed Roy’s worst suspicions. 

The bite marks on Johnny’s neck were infected. 

The illness wasn’t life threatening, at least not yet, but Johnny was currently running a pretty steady fever and he felt like crap. It was worrisome enough that Brackett had decided to load Johnny up with strong intravenous antibiotics around the clock to try and knock the stubborn germ out of his system as quickly as possible. Since Johnny had been on a regimen of antibiotics from the start of his hospital stay, the infection had masked itself, snuck in under their radar and raged unexpectedly. 

Roy had feared a problem from the moment he laid eyes on Johnny’s torn up throat in the basement but when nothing materialized Roy was relieved that he’d probably missed the boat with his quick diagnosis and he didn’t give it a second thought. His friend certainly didn’t need any more complications anyway. 

But now Johnny was sick again because of something the man had done to him. His partner was young and strong and Brackett told him not to worry but Roy was finding it very hard to listen to the Doctor’s advice. He leaned against the wall and rubbed his face until he thought his nose might fall off. 

Why Johnny? Why now? 

He cursed silently. Roy couldn’t stop moving the nightmare around in his head. The man had been all over Johnny, touching him, hitting him and making disgusting threats. His partner had looked so worn out and unsettled. And the way his wrist was shredded! Roy shuddered. Jones had hurt him so badly. 

Roy took a deep breath and started to wheel down the hall. Johnny’s room was the last one on the left, a single, so he didn’t have to worry about a meddlesome roommate, but the location was still a bit too secluded for Roy’s taste. Brackett had felt it was best so Johnny wouldn’t be pestered with a lot of hustle and bustle right outside his door, or by any press that might sneak up to assess the situation. 

Their abduction made the local news but thanks to the doctors at Rampart, the more sordid details were quickly swept under the rug and tossed into the waste bin. Roy frowned. The facts would surface soon enough at the trial but for now, at least, they didn’t have to worry about anything else but getting better. 

Roy rolled aside to let a woman holding two big balloon bouquets slide past him. The hall was unusually crowded at this time of day but he managed to maneuver his wheelchair through the staff and visitors with panache. 

Roy stopped for a second and gathered his nerve. The doorway loomed up ahead. He didn’t know why he was avoiding Johnny. He needed to see his friend and tell him that he was being released now before someone else got there first. He owed Johnny that much. A huge part of the reason Roy wasn’t hurt worse or even dead was because his friend had made it abundantly clear that he would move heaven and earth to save him. 

Johnny was like a brother to him; only somehow more. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. 

There was just something about him that made Roy happy. It really was the weirdest and most unexpected thing. One moment he was steadfast Roy Desoto, all around honest good guy and fireman - a pretty fine description all in all but it didn’t really reflect the way he completely saw himself. He was content with his life, or at least he thought he was anyway, but then seemingly overnight he added paramedic to his resume, and soon after, John Gage’s partner, and just like that Roy Desoto’s life got a hell of a lot more interesting. 

He didn’t really know how to peg his new friend at first. Johnny seemed to defy description. Words like quirky, nutty, brave and smart all played a part in Roy’s compartmentalization process but it didn’t take him long to realize that attempting to classify John Gage would take him a lifetime. Roy finally settled on unique because he’d never met anyone else quite like the paramedic before and he had a strong feeling his new friend was definitely one of a kind. 

Somehow Johnny brought out the best in him. Roy had always been a laid- back guy but now he started to take charge professionally. Emotions long dormant suddenly rose to the surface. He started to joke around more. He took chances. He developed a sarcastic side. He started to feel comfortable in his own skin for the first time in years. 

Joanne was the first to notice the difference. One night over dinner after making the children laugh until they cried with stories of Johnny’s exploits his wife had smiled at him in amazement. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you Roy Desoto. I’ve never seen you quite so animated before.” She kissed him on the cheek and collected the dinner dishes. “But I like it.” Roy smiled at the memory. She’d really liked it a lot. 

He heard sirens in the distance and jumped. He and Johnny would soon have to get reacquainted with that brilliant sound all over again. His heart skipped a beat. Roy couldn’t wait to get back behind the wheel of the Squad. Maybe this time he’d even let his partner take a turn at driving. He exhaled slowly and started off down the hall in search of his friend. 

********************************************

_Johnny raced to find his partner in the smoldering room but the smoke was too dense and he couldn’t see him anywhere._

_“Roy!” He coughed, “Where are you?” He hit a wall when he moved forward and then another one when he tried to move back._

_“Roy! Damn it come on! Don’t do this to me!” Johnny’s legs felt numb. He grabbed onto a chain and started to pull himself hand over hand up the wall but it was too late._

_The flames kissed his body and he plummeted into the inferno below…_

Johnny jumped awake, soaked to the skin and breathing heavily. The dream had felt so real. Roy was lost in the flames and Johnny couldn’t find him. He’d failed his best friend. He moved to wipe the sweat from his brow and realized with a start that his hand wouldn’t move. He wondered idly if he was awake or if he was still possibly dreaming. 

“What the…? 

Johnny stared at the bed dazed. His right wrist was tied securely to the railing with a telephone cord and his sheets were tugged down just above his knees so that the top half of his legs were visible. The yellow room curtain divider was pulled securely around his bed effectively wrapping him up in a small and dimly lit cocoon and he couldn’t see his patient buzzer anywhere. 

There was an air of menace in the room and without even seeing the man Johnny knew immediately that he was there. 

He struggled to get the phone cord untied. “Damn it!” The man had attached it tightly over the bandages on his damaged right wrist. Each pull of the tangled knots enflamed his nerves and made his eyes water. 

“Wakey-wakey Fireman.” 

Peter Jones maneuvered his body inside the curtain and around the bed and flopped down on the mattress next to Johnny. Up close the man’s face was pockmarked and mottled and his hair greasy. He wore a t-shirt one size too small that gathered under his armpits and a pair of dark brown jogging pants drizzled with an ice cream stain along the left side of the crotch. Despite his imposing size, Jones could easily pass for a visiting relative or a lost delivery man. No one in the hospital would even question him being on Johnny’s floor. 

“What are you…” 

The man smashed his hand over Johnny’s face and shoved his body hard against the backboard until the bed creaked back in anger. “Surprised to see me Gage?” He inched forward a little at a time until he was nearly sitting on Johnny’s lap and dug his fingers into Johnny’s chin hard enough to bruise his skin. 

“Ugh.” 

The bile was building up in the back of his throat and Johnny knew that if he threw up now with the man’s huge paw sealed across his mouth and nose, there was a very good chance he would aspirate his own vomit and choke to death. 

“Mmmmmm…mmmmmm…” 

“Calm down, breathe, don’t make me hurt you.” The man’s soothing words didn’t fool Johnny for a second. He knew the psycho would just as soon kiss him senseless as crack his skull into a dozen pieces against the pavement. He sagged forward with a muffled groan and waited for the man to make his move. 

“If you scream for help when I take my hand away from your mouth I’m gonna shoot the shit out of the first person who comes into the room to help you. It might be a doctor or it might be that nice Nurse McCall. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?” 

Johnny nodded. There was no way he was going to let this monster hurt anyone else that he loved. When the hand was removed, he breathed in deeply, “Get off of me.” 

“I hope you didn’t forget about our deal.” Jones stroked the gun barrel against Johnny’s lips, teasing the tip into his mouth and rubbing the cold metal back and forth across his cheekbone. He examined the painted array of bruises on the paramedic’s face appreciatively. “You’re a work of art.” He lifted Johnny’s hospital gown and studied the dark angry bruise on his abdomen. “And I designed you.” 

“The deal is off. Roy is safe.” 

“My gun and that doorway are the new deal.” The man pointed the gun and pretended to fire before settling the weapon on the bed where Johnny could see it but not reach. “Now, where were we?” 

Johnny let the man arrange his limbs anyway he wished. He prayed that no one came into the room to visit. Dr. Brackett’s last visit was nearly an hour before but he couldn’t remember the last time a nurse had come in to check the antibiotics in his IV or to take his vitals. 

“I know you enjoyed me last time Gage.” The man’s eyes raked him up and down. Johnny blushed angrily when the man’s broad fingers skimmed across his thighs and settled into the curve of his narrow hip. “Your body doesn’t lie.” 

“Sometimes it does.” He kept his voice neutral. He looked at the door and then back at the gun. His only choice was to play along for a while until another alternative presented itself. Right now, he didn’t have many options. 

The man moved closer and Johnny found himself staring directly into his emotionless eyes. He couldn't remember ever feeling such loathing for another human being before. Johnny hated the man, just hated him completely and the strength of that hatred scared him to death. 

“Did you miss me?” Jones ripped away the bandages covering Johnny’s neck with his teeth and growled low and fierce, nuzzling the infected wounds on his throat until the vibrations rippled throughout his jaw. 

Johnny envisioned the man’s germs floating around inside of his bloodstream, lying dormant, just waiting for the chance to rise up and viciously attack his immune system. He squirmed nervously, “What do you want?” 

“You Fireman, I want you.” 

Johnny instinctively tried to move away. It was happening again, just like the last time. Jones was leveraging his love for his friends, for strangers, for humanity in general against his body, playing on his compassion and his desire to save lives. He couldn’t let the man abuse him again. He had to find a way to fight back. 

Johnny’s first thought was the gun. If he could just get it away from Jones and threaten him with it, point it right in the bastard’s face then maybe he’d back down and get the hell out of Johnny’s room and try to escape from the hospital. 

Fat chance of that Johnny thought. He couldn’t see an outcome where the gun scenario ended well. Either Johnny would end up dead in the struggle, or he’d end up killing the man he nearly killed once before. Both options basically sucked. Johnny didn’t want to die. And he didn’t want to make anybody else die either. 

He considered waiting it out. When the police realized that Jones was missing, Johnny’s room would surely be the first place they searched. The insurmountable problem with that plan was that by the time the police arrived, Johnny would have either been used by Jones or beaten senseless for refusing to submit. He shuddered hard enough to nearly crack another rib. He’d barely escaped that terror once before in the basement. 

“How does hurting me avenge something that happened to Ed Marlowe?” Johnny’s voice shook. The man’s shadowy eyes held a deep-seated anger that he couldn’t understand. Despite all the hardships Johnny suffered growing up, he had never turned to violence as a means to endure. For that, at least, he was grateful. “This is all you Peter. You want to do this to me. It’s time to stop blaming everything on Ed.” 

“Ed is a good man. He saved…” 

“I heard it all before. He saved your life in Nam and now to even the score you’re torturing me.” 

The man looked confused for a second but he pulled himself together fast, “Ed Marlowe wanted to save lives, to help people like he helped me! And you made sure he couldn’t do it by blacklisting him. You and Desoto destroyed him.” 

“I’m sorry for what happened to Ed but we didn’t have a choice. He was making decisions for himself and trying to use treatments that the doctors didn’t approve of that could harm his patients.” Johnny fought to stay lucid. “I don’t hate Ed Marlowe. I swear to god I don’t. He’s a good fireman.” 

“He should have been what you are Gage! He should have been a paramedic!” 

“You don’t have to do this. You can just leave,” Johnny knew he was close to begging but he didn’t care. His body ached and his head pounded. He could barely lift himself away from his pillows. The infection and antibiotics were weakening him and Johnny wasn’t sure how long he could keep it together. “Listen to me!” 

“I’m finished listening to you Gage. Someone has to take the blame for what happened to Ed and I’m blaming you and Desoto because Ed blamed the both of you for drumming him out of the program.” 

“We didn’t have a choice,” Johnny murmured softly but he was starting to realize that there was nothing he could say that would get through to the man. His mind was made up. 

“You have time to escape before the police arrive.” 

“There's no turning back for me." 

“What do you mean?” 

The man gripped Johnny’s hair between his fingers and pulled tight against his scalp, “I killed the cop that was guarding me so I could get to you Gage, so I could have you! Do you understand what that means? There is no way in hell I’m leaving this fucking hospital unless you leave with me!” 

“You killed...?” Johnny shuddered. The man murdered a police officer. Someone who was possibly married, maybe with kids, someone just like Roy, was dead, all so the man could…so he could… 

“Do we understand each other Gage?” 

Johnny glared, “Yeah, we understand each other perfectly.” 

“Good.” Jones pressed his palm against Johnny’s bruised cheek and moved it up and across his damp forehead. Johnny didn’t flinch or back away. “You’re burning up.” 

Johnny’s stomach flip-flopped. He felt light-headed and nauseous like the time he was seasick during a rescue and had to fight back the urge to toss his cookies all over everything within a six-foot radius. The nausea had passed quickly enough once he had escaped from the boat. Johnny squirmed in place. Escaping from the man would not be as easy. 

“Yeah, I’m sick.” His hand went briefly to his neck but he pulled it back when he noticed the man watching. “I'm sick because you infected me.” 

“Really.” Jones stroked his throat, lingering over Johnny’s mouth and earlobe. “Finish untying your hand.” 

Johnny hated being touched so possessively, like something the man owned. He worked quickly until the phone cord fell to the floor. When he looked up the man covered his lips in a rough kiss that seemed to go on forever. Johnny’s pulse quickened but he didn’t react. The man’s mouth tasted sour and unwashed and Johnny felt dirty from just being near him. 

“Now what?” he asked warily. 

“Now we leave this fucking place.” Jones’s leg tangled with the blanket when he slid off the bed and he came down hard onto the linoleum flooring. He slammed his fist onto the mattress and roared, “Damn it!” and grabbed the bed railing so hard that Johnny thought for sure he’d break it in half. He caught Johnny staring and slapped him hard across the face. “Move it Gage.” 

Johnny was surprised at the man's sudden weakness; only moments before he had seemed so indestructible. His mind raced. The blow across his jaw stung but he didn't let it faze him. If Jones was really hurting, if the wound from his surgery was still painful, then his odds of surviving the man for the second time in a week had just improved dramatically. 

“Get up now!” 

Johnny was jerked roughly to his feet. He leaned against the man for a moment, touching his chest carefully to keep some space between them. 

The man waited to make sure he could stand up on his own without falling over. He put his hand beneath the gauzy material of Johnny’s hospital gown and gripped his thigh, “I can’t wait to enjoy you.” 

Johnny shivered. He wished he could toss on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Anything would be better than the white flimsy cotton fabric that clung to his sick and sweaty frame like a second layer of skin. The man traced the gun barrel up and down his naked backbone until his spine rippled and Johnny flexed involuntarily into a deep, back rolling shudder. He felt goose bumps breaking out all over his body. 

“Get going." 

Johnny held onto the IV pole for support. The last time he remembered feeling so poorly he’d been contaminated by a monkey and ended up in Rampart for nearly three weeks. He’d hoped this time around his luck was better. Johnny frowned. At least he survived the monkey attack. He wasn’t so sure about the man. 

“Hold up.” 

“Huh?” 

"We don't need these anymore." 

"What?" 

The man tore the IV lines out of Johnny's arm and hurled the spaghetti tubing down upon the bed. The unexpected trauma spun the paramedic around in a half-circle and nearly knocked him off his feet. 

“Steady Gage, steady.” The man grabbed him by the shoulders and held him upright. “Let’s move!” 

"I need to sit down...” The last thing Johnny wanted was for Jones to catch him mid faint. His legs felt weak. His head was spinning. “Stop just please stop…” he begged and fought to pull away from the man's rough embrace. "Let go of me!" 

“You don’t learn, do you?” 

The man squeezed the center of Johnny's arm where the IVs had been pulled out only moments before, digging his sharp nails into the tender mess at Johnny’s elbow and grinning sadistically. The pain was intense, crippling even, like someone was peeling away layers of his flesh with a razor blade. He stared at the man in shock, shaken by his unrelenting brutality. 

The man released him and wiped his hand on the bedsheets. “You’re bleeding,” He didn’t sound concerned, only irritated. “Get something on that before you make a fucking mess.” 

“I’m...bleeding?” Johnny looked down, dazed. Blood was pouring out of his arm from an open wound where the man had pulled out his IV lines and tore his skin apart. He could see the dark red liquid pumping from his vein in perfect time with his quickened heartbeat, a graphic thump, thump, thump that made him dizzy. The nausea he experienced earlier was now a living, breathing thing. “God,” he murmured softly, the man was really going to kill him. 

“Use this!” 

The man pushed a blanket into his hands. Johnny sat on the corner of the mattress and applied pressure but the blood continued to flow. He scrunched up his toes and edged them under the bed but it was impossible to avoid the growing red puddle beneath his feet. 

“Forget it. We need to get out of here now.” 

“No, I can’t…” Johnny shoved at the man angrily and was shocked again when his nemesis groaned. 

“You try to fight me and you die Fireman, got it? And then I’ll go and find your partner and I’ll kill him too.” Jones draped a robe from a side chair over Johnny’s shoulders. “Put this on now. We’re leaving.” 

Johnny struggled into the robe but kept his eyes glued to the man. Maybe, just maybe he could take him. It was a crazy thought but at the moment it was all that Johnny had. It might be possible for him to escape from Jones if he could just knock him aside and run out the door and get away. There was no way in hell he could win a fight – it was ridiculous to even consider it. 

But Jones had groaned. 

He was putting up a strong front but Johnny was a good enough paramedic to realize that even if he were able to stand and move around, the surgical wound would still be sore and on some level Jones would be experiencing pain. And if there was pain, then Jones body would be susceptible to a sneak attack to the area where Johnny had shot him earlier in the week. He had to do something. The last thing Johnny wanted was to walk out of the hospital with the man attached to his arm. 

He took a deep breath and made his move. 

******************************************** 

Roy heard the loud commotion even before he opened the door to Johnny’s hospital room. His first thought was ‘TV’ but the noise level was a bit too ballistic for the afternoon soap operas and game show fare that his partner secretly favored when he was sick. 

“What’s the…!” 

Roy couldn’t believe his eyes. 

Johnny was lying flat on his back, fighting tooth and nail, bleeding heavily and wiggling around like a wild thing, locked in an epic battle for survival against Peter Jones. It was brutal and lopsided and absolutely terrifying. 

He was putting up one hell of a fight, but by the looks of it, Johnny definitely wasn’t winning. 

“Get off of him!” Roy yelled and the man stared back at him in surprise. He raced to his friend’s aid only to find himself smacked back across the room by the man’s massive fist. Roy tasted blood in his mouth. He shook himself off and jumped up again grabbing the man’s shoulders and trying to pull him away from Johnny. 

Jones shoved Roy aside and wrapped his partner up in a chokehold. Instead of trying to pry the man’s fingers away from his throat Johnny doggedly elbowed the man in the stomach. Roy could see blood soaking through the man’s sweaty t-shirt. 

Somehow Johnny managed to twist himself backward and leverage himself into a roll, away from the man’s body and against the wall and under the windowpane. He was lying still, curled in a defensive heap, breathing heavily and watching the man like a hawk. Roy wasn’t sure if his friend even knew that he was there. 

“Johnny!?” 

“Roy?” Johnny looked up at him bewildered. He was wearing a bathrobe splattered with blood and had a nasty bruise above his right eye and a blossoming swell on his lip. He stared back at the man resolutely, unwilling to give an inch. It was a look that Roy had seen on his partner’s face many times before during rescues where the odds were stacked against them. He’d seen it most recently a week ago, during the day they spent in hell. 

“He has a gun!” Johnny shouted when the man pointed the weapon in Roy’s direction. Roy ducked out of the way but the man didn’t shoot. 

“What the heck is going on here?” Roy screamed. 

Jones was supposed to be handcuffed to a hospital bed in police custody not walking around in casual clothes, beating the crap out of his partner again. 

“Damned if I know Roy!” 

Johnny attempted to stand and stumbled. He reached for the window shade and slid to the floor pulling the blinds on top of him in a tumbling mess. Jones moved toward him quickly and yanked him up by his hair. He dug his fingers into the crook of Johnny’s arm and his partner screamed in agony. The man shoved Johnny into the wall and knocked his head viciously against the windowpane. When Johnny slid away, the man slammed his fist into the panel. The glass started to fracture and the bottom half of the window began to creak open. 

“Johnny!” Roy rushed at Jones and grabbed his feet tackling him down to the floor. Even half out of breath and crawling on his knees, the man was still as strong as an ox. It took every ounce of strength Roy possessed not to let him get away. “Ugh!” His ribs took a hit on the metal bed frame and he gulped and staggered through a few breaths until he could breathe normally. With nothing to grab onto, Roy was dragged along the linoleum floor struggling to keep the man down and himself out of harm’s way. 

“What the hell?” Jones looked back at him disoriented and raised himself slowly from the floor. For a second Roy feared that the man was going to stand right on top of him. 

“You!” He hit Roy near his kidneys, and for a moment the pain was so intense that he forgot how to breathe. 

“I knew I should have killed you Desoto.” The man picked him up by the scruff of his collar. “Gage is mine,” the leering expression chilled Roy’s soul, “I’m going to kill you and then I’m gonna screw him until he forgets you even existed.” 

Roy grabbed the man’s waist and clung to him doggedly, refusing to let go, determined beyond all comprehension that Jones would never touch his friend again. 

“You don’t give up easily, do you?” Jones wrapped his arms around Roy’s chest and squeezed. 

“No, I don’t!” Roy groaned when the man tightened his grip. 

“Did I mention how much you remind me of my uncle?” He placed his mouth against Roy’s ear and licked around the rim. “I wish I had time to kill you slowly.” 

Roy tried to imagine Jones on top of him touching him and kissing him, and trying to use him the way he had tried to use Johnny. The entire idea was repulsive, disgusting even; the man was huge and sweaty and cruel. And yet Johnny had been willing to let the man do whatever he wanted to him in order to keep Roy alive. He looked at his friend apologetically. Johnny was struggling to his feet using the window ledge for support. There was no way Roy could help him now. 

“I’m so sorry…” he breathed. 

Roy watched as Johnny faltered but somehow managed to stop himself from sliding back to the floor by catching the top of the sill with the edge of his fingertips. He stood for a second, swayed, but didn't back down. His partner was sick, bruised and barely standing but he was still determined to put up a fight. 

Johnny took a long, hard breath and wrapped one thin arm across his ribcage. He met Roy’s eyes and his mouth twisted slightly. 

“Hey Peter! I’m the one you want to fuck, right?” Johnny's voice shook slightly. "So, stop messing around with my partner!” 

Jones dropped Roy and howled long and hard. He shoved the gun into the waistband of his pants and thumped toward Johnny in a rage even as Roy stumbled after him. 

“I’ll have you Fireman! I’ll have…” 

The man slipped on a patch of blood and sailed directly into the glass crashing through the spider-webbed crack and hooking his hand in Johnny’s robe as he fell out the window and towards the pavement. The momentum carried Johnny over the windowsill along with his adversary, both of them disappearing completely from Roy’s view. 

“Johnny!” Roy screamed. He peered over the glass and saw his friend clinging to the cement ledge while Jones held onto his legs trying to pull him over. He took a deep breath and crawled outside. 

“Roy!” Johnny’s fingers were slipping. There was no way he could hold on for very long. The man’s weight and gravity were far too much for him to fight alone. Roy reached out to his partner and tried to balance himself on the cement slab. 

“Johnny, grab my hand! Take it!” 

“No way Roy, I won’t! You’ll fall too!” 

“Take my hand! Damn it Johnny. Trust me. Please take my hand.” 

“You can’t hold onto us both and he won’t let me go!” 

“Don’t think about that!” From his position, Roy could see the man clinging to Johnny’s legs, either trying to climb him like a tree or take him down over the edge. He swallowed hard, “Take my hand! Do it now!” 

“Yeah, okay, I got it!” Johnny’s hands were blood covered and slippery but Roy held on tight. If he let go now, Johnny would plummet to his death. He remembered dropping the gun in the basement. The clattering sound of the small weapon hitting the cement floor had echoed inside his skull for days after they were rescued. If it happened again now, if he couldn’t hold on to his friend, if he let Johnny slip away…Roy scowled, “To hell with that! Damn it!” 

The pressure on Roy’s arm and shoulder was intense. His entire body ached. He was sure it was worse for Johnny. The man was balanced precariously on the balls of his feet on the ledge of the lower floor taking a small portion of the burden away but the mass of both men was still far beyond what Roy was capable of supporting. 

He wished the man would just let go and make an attempt to escape from the ledge one floor below them, but no, the bastard was determined to take Johnny with him, dead or alive and he was not freeing his friend without a fight. “Well, neither am I…” Roy muttered. He steadied his resolve and held on to his partner. “I’m not going to drop you!” 

“Roy!” 

The man edged his feet along the lower ledge, balancing half on his own, and half on Johnny and took the gun out of his waistband. Johnny attempted to kick the weapon out of the man’s hands and Roy nearly lost his grip. 

“You bastard,” the man shouted. He pulled out the gun and pointed it in Roy’s direction. 

There was nowhere for him to hide. If Roy tried to move back, he’d lose Johnny and if Jones shot him, Johnny would fall and Roy would probably die here right along with his friend. By the resigned look on his partner's face he’d already figured everything out for himself. 

“You have to drop me! Please Roy. I don’t want you to die!’ 

“I’m not letting you go!” 

“Roy!” 

“Hold on Johnny!” Roy watched Johnny make one last attempt to kick the man and this time he very nearly dislodged him. “Kick him again!” Roy was shouting now, desperate for a miracle. He held on tight and prayed but with Jones’ added weight and the struggle going on beneath him, Roy knew it was only a matter of time before fate intervened. He squeezed Johnny’s hand and felt his partner slipping. Roy edged forward and held on. 

Johnny kicked again and struck the man in the face. “Let go of me!” 

“I’m not gonna miss him this time Fireman!” he screamed and aimed the gun at Roy’s head. 

_Bam!_

A bullet soared past Roy’s ear but it didn’t come from the man’s direction. He heard Johnny scream, “Roy!” and suddenly his burden was a hell of a lot lighter. He strengthened his hold on Johnny and spun around in shock looking for the shooter. “What…!” 

“It’s all right Desoto. Just pull your partner up slowly. Careful now, careful!” 

Lieutenant Crockett was standing in Johnny’s hospital room holstering his weapon. His trademark smirk was nowhere to be seen. Roy looked down at the man lying dead on the pavement. He shouted through the ringing in his ears, “Yeah, yeah, okay!” 

Roy tugged Johnny up and pushed him as far away as possible from the end of the ledge. 

“I got him!” 

He leaned Johnny flush against the bricked structure and held onto his bony shoulders with both hands. Roy followed his detached expression nervously, shaking him once or twice to get his attention. 

“Johnny?” 

Johnny’s eyes hovered between lidded and closed and he was breathing raggedly, trying desperately to catch his breath. His normally amber skin was as white as the marble adorning the building and for a moment Roy visualized his partner as a gargoyle attached forever to the outer wall of the hospital, a silent, pale effigy designed to ward off evil and save lives. The idea terrified him. 

Johnny was okay. Johnny had to be okay. 

“Hey, come on now, come on, open your eyes for me,” His friend barely reacted when Roy called his name. “Johnny.” He tapped a cold cheek gently and waited. "Look at me." 

"Um..." 

“Junior!” Roy tapped him again, harder this time, and waited. Johnny’s skin felt like ice and he was shivering hard. “Are you with me?” 

Dark eyes opened, found his, and lingered for a second before starting to drift, “Hey…Roy…” 

“You’re safe now,” Roy patted Johnny's face again and rubbed his shoulders until he had his full attention. 

"What happened…?” Johnny’s sweaty hair moved delicately in the breeze. His hands trembled as they reached for Roy. “The man…he had a gun…Roy?” 

“Desoto?” Crockett’s voice held a worried edge. 

“Yeah!?” He had a million questions to ask the lieutenant but only one thing on his mind. “Get some help up here. Johnny needs a doctor!” 

“I think you both do.” Crockett sighed. “I’m sure I can find a dozen or so around here someplace.” He smiled. “Just hold tight.” 

“I intend to!” Roy wrapped his arms around his friend and did exactly as he was instructed. “Stay with me Johnny.” 

"...um.” 

Johnny seized against him and started shaking, pushing at Roy and trying to latch onto him. He grabbed Roy’s shirt and then released it only to grab it again and tangle his thin fingers into the soft folds of fabric. Roy wished he’d asked the lieutenant to throw him down a blanket. It was so damn cold on the ledge. 

“S…sorry…” Johnny stammered. 

“Shhh, calm down, it’s all right.” Roy watched Johnny unsuccessfully try to curl his bare feet under the robe and noticed for the first time since he entered the hospital room that Johnny’s toes were covered in blood. 

“Just breathe in and out slowly,” Roy advised him with a worried glance. He pulled Johnny closer, hugging him, desperately trying to instill some warmth back into his body. "Help is coming.” 

“K..." Johnny tucked his head under Roy’s chin and made a noise that sounded like a sob. 

He struggled to bring his feet under the robe again and cursed in frustration when his trembling body refused to cooperate. “D…damn it!” He finally gave up trying and flopped against Roy like a rag doll. 

“Here, let me do that.” Roy offered. He tugged at the robe until the bottom half of the garment covered most of Johnny’s feet. "All covered up. You'll feel warmer now." 

His partner watched him wearily. 

“Is that any better?” Roy asked, concerned, and Johnny bit his bottom lip and teared up before nodding. 

Roy knew his friend was having a hard time getting his emotions under control. The man had nearly killed them again but somehow, against all odds, they had survived a second time. 

“Roy?” He felt Johnny tense against him and moan. 

“Yeah,” Roy cradled Johnny’s head gently against his shoulder and whispered into his hair. “Shhh, I’m here, I’m here.” His partner’s body felt very slight in his arms where only moments before he had seemed so incredibly heavy. “Try to relax.” 

“I am t…trying…R…Roy!” Johnny struggled to lift his head and somehow managed to sound indignant, “Is he…?” 

“He’s dead. Probably before he even hit the pavement.” 

"Oh..." Johnny sagged against him again, and was silent. Roy could feel every tremor and jerk emanating from his friend’s slender body. 

“Johnny?” 

“Hmmm?” 

"You doing any better?” 

Johnny was still shaking and still clinging but the harsh tremors had thankfully subsided. He spoke haltingly, “Yeah. Some. I guess.” 

With the rush of adrenaline finally over, the tenacity that Roy had witnessed from his friend earlier in the hospital room was gone, replaced by a fragility he now found unsettling. He gave Johnny another minute to regroup before checking him over for injuries. 

“I need to examine you,” he said. Johnny didn’t protest but he didn’t attempt to help him out either. Roy figured it was probably taking all of his energy just to keep his eyes open. He maneuvered Johnny into a better position and held onto his left wrist. “Pulse is 115. “Respirations are 24.” 

“Maybe I should check you over too pally.” Johnny yawned and his head flopped backwards against the wall with a thud. He scowled. “You okay?” 

“I think I’m doing a heck of a lot better than you are right now.” Roy responded and was rewarded with a weak smile. He tousled Johnny’s hair looking for lacerations, and checked out his extremities for damage. “Are you in any pain?” 

"A little.” Johnny grumbled. “I’m just so damn tired.” 

“You’ll get to sleep soon,” Roy offered. "This won't take long." 

The arm of Johnny’s hospital robe was soaked in blood and there was a swelling bruise above his right eye. Roy was dismayed to see a hint of red seeping out from under the bandage on his friend’s damaged wrist. “How did this happen?” He cradled the bloody sleeve gently, “Johnny?” 

Johnny sighed, “The man." 

“Did you cut it during the fight, or on the window?” 

His partner’s voice sounded distant, “No.” 

Roy touched along the robe, up and down and around the curve of Johnny’s elbow. “Here?” 

Johnny jumped back in pain and jerked his arm away. “Ouch! Just leave it alone will ya? I can’t Roy.” 

“Let me see it,” Roy encouraged his friend, keeping his voice firm, slightly afraid of what he might find. “I’ll be fast. I promise.” 

“I don’t wanna look at it again…” Johnny’s eyes were cloudy. He tried to bury his arm under the robe to keep it safe but then suddenly he relented and held it out in front of his chest like a peace offering. He smiled sickly, “I’m glad he’s dead Roy.” 

“I know,” Roy searched his partner’s face. “Just try not to think about it.” 

There was something cold in Johnny’s gaze that Roy wasn’t used to seeing. He struggled against the idea that the man had not only poisoned Johnny’s body but had somehow managed to pollute his soul as well. The darkness he saw reflected in Johnny’s expression had no place being inside of him, taking up residence behind his usually warm, placid eyes. The man had stolen something from his friend and Roy hoped in time Johnny could recover whatever it was that he lost. 

He rolled the bathrobe sleeve up with some difficulty, careful not to inflict any more damage and stared in horror at the wound. There was a rough tear in Johnny’s arm centered around an open vein that was oozing thick dark blood. Roy lowered the sleeve and immediately applied pressure. He tried to bury his anger and failed, “What did he do to you?” 

“IV lines…he tore them out, dug his nails inside me.” Johnny looked away. His eyes were haunted and his eyelids translucent in the soft dewy glow of the hospital spotlights. He trembled a bit, anxious and desperate, like a trapped animal. “I think I need to lie down now maybe.” 

“Okay, okay,” Roy recognized the signs. He helped Johnny recline, but kept his head raised and his face turned sideways. 

“Roy…” 

“I know.” Roy barely had time to hold his partner’s hair back before he was vomiting suddenly and violently onto the ledge. Johnny gagged and shuddered until there was nothing left inside him. 

Roy placed one hand on Johnny's shoulder to keep him safe and in place and spoke in soft, reassuring tones, "That’s it, just let it out. I got you. I got you.” 

Johnny closed his eyes and breathed in and out deeply. “God…” 

Roy swallowed. He watched Johnny drag his nails across the cement ledge for purchase and grabbed his partner’s fingers and held tight. “Don’t do that. You’re gonna hurt yourself.” 

Johnny sighed. He didn’t resist when Roy pulled him up from the ledge and held him snugly against his chest. 

“That cement’s way too cold,” Roy explained and kept him close for a minute before placing Johnny’s head upon his lap. He cleaned the corners of Johnny’s mouth with the waist tie from the bathrobe and kept up a steady pressure on his arm. “Just relax." 

"Okay." Johnny whispered. His eyes were wet with unshed tears. Roy dabbed them away with his fingertip. 

He applied more pressure to the bloody robe and Johnny whimpered. “I know, I know. I’m so sorry.” Roy hoped Brackett could fix up Johnny’s arm without too much trouble. His friend definitely didn’t need another hassle. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.” 

“I’m good.” 

Roy looked down quickly and Johnny lowered his eyes. “Yeah, I can see that.” The bandage covering Johnny’s neck was gone revealing the irritated puncture marks from the man’s rotted teeth. His friend was burning up under his fingertips, one hundred and one degrees maybe or even one hundred and two. "Oh Junior." Roy layered his fingers through Johnny’s hair, “Just rest.” 

Roy hadn’t known the extent of his friend’s injuries when he was trying to save his life and it probably wouldn’t have made much of a difference anyway if he had. There was simply no other way to save his partner. The man’s heavy weight, suspended on Johnny’s thin frame, really did a number on the torn vein. It looked like it was popping right out of his skin. He didn’t even want to imagine how badly Johnny’s wrist had fared. Not to mention the possibility of another infection from the ripped IV lines and the man’s filthy nails digging under Johnny’s flayed skin. 

“Don't worry, the doctors will fix you up in no time,” Roy said and Johnny didn’t argue. 

Roy remembered being on the hospital’s ledge once before, a floor or two above where they were now, earlier in the year during a rescue, with Johnny fighting to subdue a drugged-out patient and Dr. Brackett yelling for his partner to ‘sit on him’ so he didn’t fall off or hurt himself. Roy had thought the doctor’s directive sounded ridiculous. That time around they’d been the rescuers rather than the ones in need of a rescue and Roy decided he liked the former position a heck of a lot better. 

He gazed into the flashing lights of the police cars and fire trucks in the parking lot below. Night was starting to fall very quickly but he could still see a sliver of sun upon the horizon. The size of the crowd surprised him. Roy wasn’t sure if they had watched the entire show or if the majority had arrived soon after Jones had fallen to his death. He winced. At least someone had covered the man’s face with a blanket. 

Roy jostled his friend gently, “Still with me?” 

“Kinda,” Johnny was barely moving. “Got a headache. 

Roy inspected the swelling above his partner’s eye. “He hit you with the gun?” 

“Yeah, well, I did try to take it from him.” 

“Of course you did,” Roy considered, “You pass out at all?” 

“Naw.” 

“Good.” 

“How’s your shoulder?” Johnny’s voice sounded sleepy and his teeth were chattering. The evening chill was just beginning to hit. The sticky bathrobe wasn’t making things easier but at least it kept him covered. 

“Probably about the same as yours,” Roy felt his partner smirk against his leg. He folded his arms tighter. “We’ll be inside soon. I’ll get you something warmer to wear.” 

“Roy?” 

“Huh?” 

“Thanks.” Johnny burrowed against him. "For not dropping me I mean." 

Roy scrunched his arm over Johnny’s back and compressed the torn vein. The steady throb of a heartbeat under his fingertips was reassuring. 

“Yeah, well,” Roy sighed, “Thanks for not letting go.” 

“Not a chance partner,” Johnny murmured, “Not a chance.” 

“Hey guys. I thought hospitals were for sick people.” Chet’s voice was music to Roy’s ears. He started to move but Chet stilled him with a gentle touch. “Just let us do the work now Roy. Brackett is waiting down below for you. Brice is on his way up.” His eyes scanned the vomit on the end of the ledge and looked at Johnny worriedly. “You okay John?” 

“Yeah, Chet, I think so.” Johnny blinked, “Just hurry it up, okay?" 

“You got somewhere you need to be?” Chet kept his voice light but Roy could see the concern in his eyes. He watched as Chet signaled to the snorkel truck. “We’re going to take you down in the cage. Do you need a Stokes Roy?” 

“Just get one for Johnny.” Roy watched his partner carefully. 

Chet nodded, "Be right back." 

“I don’t need a Stokes either.” Johnny sounded defiant but Roy could tell he was fading. He kept closing his eyes and then opening them quickly, fighting off the urge to just give in and sleep. 

Roy couldn’t imagine the strength it took to be his partner right now. It made him exhausted just thinking about it. 

“Can’t they just pull us in through the window?” Johnny looked down towards the pavement. “I don’t wanna…” He tightened his grip on Roy’s T-shirt. “Ah, man, just forget about it.” 

Johnny didn’t want to see Jones again, dead or alive and Roy didn’t blame him. He lowered his head and whispered, "When we get on the ladder keep your eyes closed and I’ll tell you when you can open them, all right?” 

“That’s a pretty good idea but I’m having trouble keeping them open right now,” Johnny admitted. 

“Gage, Desoto,” Brice leaped over the window ledge effortlessly and set to work on their vitals without any small talk. "I'm just going to get some readings. Bob's coming up in the cage and we’ll get you down to the hospital emergency room shortly." 

“Fantastic,” Roy sighed. 

Johnny twitched while Brice circled around him, “Hey, can you not do that?” He pulled his hand away from Brice but the paramedic took it back without a beat and started checking Johnny’s pulse. 

“Pulse is 100 and the BP is…100 over 70.” Brice looked at the bloody robe and knit his brows, “We heard there was gunfire. Did you get shot Gage?” He didn’t wait for permission. He rolled up Johnny’s blood-soaked sleeve and pressed around the wound on his arm. 

Johnny turned two shades paler, “No…uh…” he gasped, “Brice…come on…” 

“…take it easy,” Roy finished evenly, eyeing the tear. He was relieved to see that the bleeding had finally stopped. Johnny was glaring at the paramedic but Roy knew that angry or not, his partner could not hold out much longer. 

“Gage is your partner but he’s my patient now Roy,” Brice admonished. He was an excellent paramedic but as always, his empathy was severely lacking. “I’ll need to wrap that up a bit before we move you.” He continued to access the damage. “Gage, can you tell me what happened here?” 

“Sure,” Johnny mumbled and passed out soundlessly in Roy’s arms. 

Brice stared at the unconscious man in surprise, “Desoto, I swear I barely touched him.” 

Roy sighed, “I know.” He nodded when Bob Bellingham came up over the ridge. “Hey Bob.” 

“What did you do?” Bellingham looked at Brice confused. “Some bedside manner buddy,” He shook his head affably and placed two Stokes up on the cement ledge near the three paramedics. 

Roy looked at the second Stokes and smiled. Chet made sure Roy was taken care of even though he tried to convince the fireman that the extra help wasn’t necessary. They were family. They watched out for each other. 

“We’ll get Gage down first,” Brice was talking to him and Bellingham but Roy was only partially listening. 

He wondered if Joe Early would still release him to his family in the morning and how long after his release Johnny would then be allowed to follow. He hoped that his friend didn’t suffer any lasting effects from the man’s cruelty and that if he needed help dealing with the trauma he’d ask for it and not attempt to suffer through it alone. And he prayed that the man’s death would end any interest in the case by the media and the police and allow both he and Johnny the privacy they needed to recover. At the very least with the man dead there wouldn’t be any need for a trial. 

He pulled Johnny against him and started to drift. 

“Roy, I need to take him now,” Bellingham shook him gently, “Roy? Wake up. I need to get Johnny into the Stokes so I can start bringing you both down.” 

Roy looked up surprised. He hadn’t even heard Bellingham speaking. His arm was wrapped around Johnny protectively and his head was leaning against the wall in his partner’s direction. “Yeah,” He sat up and maneuvered Johnny’s limp body toward Brice and watched as he and Bellingham secured him carefully into the Stokes and covered him with a blanket for his trip down in the snorkel. 

He closed his eyes… 

“You’re back with us Roy. Good. Try not to move your shoulder. It’ll be your turn soon,” Brice’s smile was genuine. He helped Roy over to the empty Stokes and settled him inside. Roy noticed that his shoulder had been expertly bandaged for support. 

Down on the street Johnny was being lifted onto a gurney while Brackett and Dixie fussed over him and directed orderlies to take him inside to the emergency room. He tracked the gurney with his eyes until it disappeared inside the safe haven of Rampart. 

Roy breathed a sigh of relief. The nightmare was finally over. 

******************************************** 

Brackett followed the fast-moving gurney down the hallway and into the treatment room. “Let’s move!” He kept his eyes glued to his slumbering patient the entire way. Despite a few false starts, Gage was still out of it. 

“The OR’s ready Kel,” Mike Morton said quietly, “We can take him in ASAP. I have the specialist standing by.” 

The younger doctor kept a steady pace at his side which was a good thing because Brackett sure as hell didn’t plan on slowing down for anybody. 

“Who’d you get for me?” 

“Crenshaw, like you requested.” Morton nodded, “How’s it looking?” 

“There’s some pretty ugly damage to his arm and he’s lost a bit of blood but Gage is tough,” Brackett didn’t like flowery words, “It’ll be some tricky work but Crenshaw’s a good man. I think Johnny’s going to be just fine. 

Morton nodded. His eyes drifted to Gage and Brackett smiled. They were never going to be best friends but Mike was slowly starting to realize that he and Gage didn’t have to be enemies either. 

Brackett examined the mess in his paramedic’s inner elbow. Dixie had worked quickly, cutting off the robe and tossing it into the trash and laying a slight dressing over the wound. “Johnny’s been through hell.” 

“I hope he can come back from this,” Morton sighed, “The police officer guarding Jones died Kel.” He sighed. “And we found another man stuffed into a supply closet with a bad concussion. I guess Jones stole his clothing. He was playing for keeps this time.” 

Brackett shook his head angrily. The bastard killed a man in his hospital, beat up another, and then attempted to murder two more. “Yeah,” he said. “But he didn’t kill Johnny and Roy.” 

“Um…” Gage’s eyes fluttered open. He stared at Brackett drowsily and waved. “Hey um…” 

“Welcome back sleeping beauty.” Brackett felt his patient’s forehead and frowned. Gage was burning up. 

“I wasn’t sleeping…” Johnny’s murmured. The young paramedic tried to lift his head but gave up after two tries. 

“Relax Johnny.” Brackett cautioned him gently. “You’re going to be fine. We’re taking you into surgery.” He was doing his best to be reassuring but for Gage it wasn’t enough. 

“Where’s Roy?” Gage sputtered, “Did they bring him down? Is he okay?” 

Brackett placed his hand on Gage's shoulder to keep him steady and kept his voice direct, “You’ll see Roy when you wake up later. I promise you. We’re examining him right now and everything looks pretty good. Jones is dead, you’re both safe and I need to get you into surgery to fix that arm stat. You got me?” 

Gage nodded. His eyes rolled back in his head but he shook off the impending slumber just long enough to say, “Thanks doc…” before passing out completely. 

Brackett smiled, “You’re welcome Johnny,” and followed the gurney down the hallway into the operating room. 

********************************************* 

_“I want to stay until he wakes up.”_

__

_“That should be soon. The anesthesia is wearing off.”_

__

_“He looks good Roy. No problems during surgery. We just need to get his temperature down now.”_

Johnny recognized Roy’s voice immediately. And Dr. Brackett’s too. The final one he wasn’t clear on but she certainly sounded pretty. He felt his hand being squeezed and knew it was Roy holding onto him. He blinked his eyes once and then kept them closed, allowing the hospital sounds and bright light in the room to rouse him little by little until he felt ready to wake up. 

Johnny didn’t know how long he was out but when he opened his eyes he didn’t see Brackett or the nurse with the nice voice anywhere. His partner was still there though, sitting in a wheelchair on the left side of his bed and staring absently out through the eerily darkened window. 

“Roy?” Johnny’s voice sounded rough. He coughed a few times to shake the blah out of his system. 

Roy turned around and wheeled closer to his side. 

“Hey.” Johnny attempted to lift himself into a sitting position but failed miserably. His body felt like a dead weight. “I heard the Doc." 

“Stop moving around so much. You’ll pull out your stitches,” Roy warned. Johnny saw him check the monitors quickly. “Brackett will be back soon. Everything went well Johnny.” He motioned to a glass on the table, “Are you thirsty?” 

“Um, yeah, a little.” He took note of the dark purplish circles under Roy’s bright blue eyes and frowned. “You're a mess.” 

“Coming from you that's rich," Roy acknowledged with a small grin, “Here, I can’t give you too many.” He put an ice chip in Johnny’s mouth. “How are you feeling?” 

“Ah, drowsy and sort of heavy, really hot. I feel like crap Roy.” The heat from his skin was overpowering. Johnny counted the IV’s plugged into both of his arms and looked at Roy questioningly. 

“You’re still running a fever, around 102. Brackett has you on some pretty strong antibiotics and fluids. You’re going to be all right.” Roy’s voice cracked on the last word. He exhaled slowly, “It’s over.” 

“Roy…” Johnny started. He was sweaty and uncomfortable and later, when he puked all over his clean white hospital sheets, Roy would know he wasn’t really all right. The entire staff would know and the station right along with them. Everyone he ever cared about in his entire life would know how sick and miserable and dirty he felt. He dragged his damp fingers across the blanket to dry them out. A blood stain hovering just beneath the surface of the bandage on his arm mocked him viciously. It wasn’t over for him. 

It would never be over. 

“There weren’t any problems during surgery,” Roy continued. He licked his lips carefully before he spoke again. Johnny appreciated his caution. “Doc said you shouldn’t have any permanent damage but you might need some physical therapy for your arm and wrist. Barring any complications, you should be home by next week.” 

Johnny felt the soft pull of sleep dragging him under. 

His arm hurt like hell; a burning, biting pain that pounded under the skin, contaminating him more with each passing second. If Johnny pulled back the bandage he was positive he’d see red enflamed skin and stinky oozing pus where the man’s nails violated him, raking away his flesh with a retched, acidic scour. 

Jones would recover before him, again, healthy and strong, and this time, if the bastard saw Roy in Johnny’s room, he’d kill him for sure. He’d shoot his partner right between the eyes and then he’d grab Johnny and… 

His eyes shot open and he reached out blindly, “Roy?” 

“Yeah, Johnny I’m here.” 

“You need to get out. He’ll kill you. He has a gun.” Johnny blinked at Roy’s confused expression. “He…the man…” 

“Johnny calm down.” 

"He killed that cop so he could…” Johnny squeezed his eyes shut when the tears threatened. He felt weak enough as it was, he didn’t want to appear even weaker. “He wanted me.” 

Johnny was very close to losing it. He needed to talk to Roy and warn him. His partner would help him understand what happened. Roy would know what to do. “I didn’t want him to touch me. He told me that I liked it but I didn’t. He hurt me Roy.” 

Johnny shivered. He suddenly felt like an idiot for babbling on and on about what the man had done to him. It wasn’t Roy’s problem anyway. He looked around but didn’t see Jones anywhere. “Where is he?” 

Roy was worrying his bottom lip the way he did when he was contemplating his next chess move. “Johnny, Peter Jones is…” 

Oh, shit... 

“… dead." Johnny finished the sentence for him. He wiped his watery eyes on the pillow case and struggled to sit up again. “God, he is dead, right?” 

“Yeah Johnny. Crockett shot him and he fell to the pavement.” Roy placed his hand on Johnny’s chest and gently pushed him back against his pillows. “Just lay still, okay? He can’t hurt you anymore. He’s gone. Do you remember?” 

Roy’s expression was haggard. Johnny didn’t blame him one bit. His partner had temporarily forgotten that a madman who tried to rape and murder him had been shot dead soon after shoving him through a hospital window. Roy certainly had a right to be concerned. How could anyone in their right mind forget something like that? 

“Yeah, I do now. I musta been dreaming.” 

Johnny recalled waking up with the man in his room and the IV’s being torn out of his arm and fighting with the man and crashing through the window. He remembered Roy pulling him back up onto the ledge, shaking like an earthquake and then puking his guts up until this throat ached. He probably upchucked on a dozen or more innocent bystanders gaping from below in the parking lot. 

When Brice finally arrived on the scene it all started to get a little foggy but his memory was intact enough to know that the man was definitely and completely dead. “We’re alive,” he whispered without really feeling it but Roy’s smile warmed him just enough to allow him to smile back. 

“Yeah, Junior, we’re alive.” 

"But why me Roy? Why did he fixate on me...not that I’d rather he fixated on you! I’m not saying that at all. I’m glad he didn’t want you like…that. But people are dead now because of me and…" 

“No, they’re not. You’re not responsible.” Roy was using his stern voice now, the one he reserved for rowdy patients and dopers. “You know I’m right Johnny. Jones needed revenge for Ed Marlowe. I’m not sure how or when wanting you physically figured into his crazy plans but his psychosis, his cruelty and his crimes are not in any way your fault. That was all Peter Jones. Do you understand me?” 

“I get it Roy…but still…” 

“Not your fault partner. Not one tiny bit.” 

Johnny sighed, “All right. I know that,” and he did know but he didn’t really believe it. The man had been willing to torture and murder to have him. Johnny couldn’t grasp it. He didn’t even know the man. But Ed Marlowe had known Jones. And Ed had convinced him that Johnny and Roy were screwing each other like rabbits. 

“I spoke to Crockett earlier. He set me straight on a couple of things.” 

Johnny exhaled. Roy had steered the conversation into more stable waters. But he was curious despite himself. “What things?” 

“For one he told me that Ed Marlowe was the medic who treated Mr. Gregor in Vietnam. Ed was responsible for Gregor’s arm being atrophied. He set the bone wrong Johnny. He rushed the procedure just like he nearly did during our rescue by the lighthouse.” 

"Wow!" Johnny shook his head. “That’s something else. How did Crockett find out?” 

“It took a while but he checked into the medical records and saw Marlowe’s name on the paperwork. I’m not sure how Jones knew about Gregor or what part he played in Gregor’s heart attack or near drowning but Crockett will get to the bottom of it I’m sure.” 

“Huh, so there was a connection between those two…we were pretty sure there would be.” Johnny yawned and closed his eyes. When he woke up again, Roy was still sitting beside him. “Sorry,” he murmured, then, “What else?” 

Roy leaned forward and put his hand on Johnny’s arm. “Crockett didn’t have a clue that we were in trouble. He didn’t’ know about his officer’s death before he went to your room. He just wanted to get your signature on a statement. Can you believe that? It was pure luck that he arrived when he did.” 

Johnny wasn’t sure how to respond. It was hard for him to accept that their survival had rested solely upon chance. If Crockett had been delayed by a few minutes, maybe held up on another case or if he stopped somewhere for a cup of coffee both he and Roy might be dead. 

_Might be._

But then again, since Roy was pretty insistent that Johnny should hang on and stay alive, he preferred to think that the reason they were both still breathing was because of his partner’s unyielding determination rather than some crazy whim of fate. 

“Yeah…” Johnny turned his face into the pillow and groaned. The pain in his arm was really starting to rev up. “Ugh.” 

“I know you’re hurting. The nurse was here when you went out. She’ll be back in a minute with your meds.” 

“I didn’t even hear her come in.” he murmured. 

“You’re still groggy from the anesthesia. Are you nauseous at all?” 

Johnny considered, then nodded. He watched Roy move the small basin within his reach and grimaced, “Thanks partner.” 

“Listen, Johnny,” Roy sighed. “The guys are really worried about you. About both of us. I know the police didn’t want us to talk a lot about what happened in the basement when we were going to testify in court, but now with Jones dead, well, there won’t be a trial anymore and...” He shrugged his shoulders miserably and Johnny yawned again. Roy looked at him concerned, “Forget it. This can wait. You need to sleep.” 

“Huh? No, I’m good. Just give me a moment will ya?” It took Johnny’s dormant brain a few seconds to calculate what his friend was trying to say. He shook his head. “You’ll be back to work at the Station soon Roy, probably before I get back there.” 

Even admitting that Roy would be back at work without him made Johnny’s heart sink a little. “And it would be a heck of a lot better for you to have everything out in the open so you won’t have to deal with a lot of crazy questions from everybody. We need to clear the air and explain while we have a chance. We can fill them in on… on everything.” He swallowed. 

“We don’t have to tell them everything Johnny,” Roy replied quickly. “Just what you’re comfortable talking about.” 

Johnny laughed bitterly. “I’m not comfortable with any of this Roy.” A sudden wave of anger engulfed him and he bit his tongue to keep from lashing out. Knowing that his best friend didn’t think he was strong enough to deal with the bad stuff that happened over the past week was infuriating. Johnny wasn’t a child. He didn’t need coddling. He needed to get out of the hospital and back on the job. 

“I’d rather they hear it from me firsthand. I can’t imagine what people are saying! I flipped out in that basement. I was off my rocker. I think I scared the crap out of Dwyer. And Bellingham and Brice saw my arm on the ledge.” He sighed. “The guys probably know there’s a lot more to the story than we told them last week. If you don’t think I can handle talking with the team that’s your problem. Not mine.” 

“I never said you couldn’t handle it.” 

“It's what you meant.” 

“No, it isn’t.” 

"Yes, it is!" 

"I'm not your enemy Johnny." Roy said. "I know this hasn’t been easy. It’s been difficult for me too.” 

Johnny wrapped his arms across his chest and winced when the IV lines tugged at his skin. Where the hell was the nurse anyway? He noticed Roy watching him closely and turned away. Johnny was finding it hard to shake off his gloom. “I’m tired.” He tried to turn his face into the pillow and failed. 

“Hey.” 

“What!” He kicked it back a notch when Roy flinched. “What…?" Damn it. He sighed, "I’m so sorry Roy.” 

“I know you are,” Roy smoothed down his blanket carefully, taking special care to flatten every visible crease. “It’s late. They’re gonna shove me out of here soon. It’s way past visiting hours and Dixie won’t look the other way for long.” He backed up his wheelchair but didn’t leave the room. “We’ll talk to everyone tomorrow, okay?” 

“Okay, sure.” The last thing Johnny wanted was to admit to the guys he worked with every day that he offered his body to a madman in order to save his partner’s life. Although he had no regrets about his decision and the way things eventually played out his stomach was twisted up in knots just thinking about his friends’ reactions. “Roy, maybe you are right and I can’t handle this,” he said finally. 

“But I never said…” 

“I just don’t know man…I mean…” he sighed, “I’m afraid.” Admitting it out loud almost made him feel better. 

“I’m afraid too.” Roy shook his head fondly, “But we work with a great bunch of guys. They’ll understand when we tell them. They won’t judge us Johnny.” 

“I know that Roy. I know.” 

Roy leaned forward and looked at Johnny directly. “Even Chet.” 

“Yeah, even Chet,” Johnny agreed. He tried to imagine what the Irishman would make of his story. He was pretty sure the Phantom would never use the drama against him in the future; that sort of cruelty just wasn’t his style. If Johnny had to place a bet he’d put his money on Chet being angrier than anyone else on the crew. Their friendship sure was complicated. “But what if I can’t do it? What if I freeze up?" 

“You can do it. I’ll be with you the entire time.” Roy wheeled toward the door but then back-tracked. “Do you want me to sit for a while until the nurse gets back?” 

“Um…” Roy looked bushed. He obviously needed his sleep as much as Johnny needed his but then again, Roy was probably getting released tomorrow. He’d have all the time in the world to nap at home. Johnny hated wanting anything as desperately as he wanted Roy to stay. The nurse walked through the door before he could answer. 

“I’ve got your medicine Mr. Gage. These will take care of your pain and also let you get some rest.” She injected something into his IV port and Johnny started to fade. He’d been right about her being pretty. Her looks certainly matched her voice. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon Johnny.” 

“Roy…” Johnny murmured softy before falling soundly asleep. 

******************************************** 

Marco closed the door to Gage’s hospital room and lined up against the corridor wall alongside of his friends. Roy remained inside the room to talk with his partner, to reassure him maybe, but had promised to come out shortly and see them off. The paramedic was politely giving his friends a chance to vent. One look at the concerned faces all around him and Marco knew it was a sensible idea. 

“Johnny looks like crap,” Chet announced angrily. “It’s not right what happened to him.” 

Cap frowned, “I’ve never seen so many IV’s hooked up to one human being before in my entire life." 

“He looked much better when we saw him last week,” Stoker chimed in. “I’m happy Roy’s getting released but I bet Johnny's stuck in here for a while. Blood infections can be tricky.” 

Marco sighed, “Ay Dios Mio fellas.” He threw his hands up in the air. “Give the guy a break, will you? He nearly died twice in the past eight days and he just had surgery last night!” 

“We know that Marco. We’re just a little shell-shocked is all,” Chet’s voice sounded defensive and Marco understood completely. “If you guys saw Gage on that ledge…” he turned away for a second, “Man, I was scared. Chet slammed his fist into his palm. “Screw that – I was terrified.” 

Marco frowned. It really was one hell of a mess. 

Johnny and Roy, kidnapped, assaulted, drugged, and nearly killed and their assailant escaping police custody, murdering an officer and coming back to attack them for a second time. Chet was right on the money. But saying they felt shell-shocked was an understatement. 

“I’m not really sure how to respond. I can’t believe this happened on their shift. To our friends. That man tortured them!” Cap said tightly, “I’m not feeling any remorse for his death.” 

“And he murdered a cop just to try and get another chance at Johnny. That’s obsessive,” Mike observed calmly although Marco noticed his fists clench a few times before he placed them coolly at his sides. “I wonder why they didn’t tell us about everything last week?” 

“It’s not the easiest story to tell I suppose,” Marco managed, “And Roy said the police asked them not to discuss the specifics. At least we know the whole story now. Not just bits and pieces from Dwyer and Bellingham. What a nightmare.” 

“Yeah, that’s putting it mildly. If that guy wasn’t dead, I’d knock his lights out. I’d seriously fuck him up. What he did to Gage…man…” Chet was raging and Marco didn’t think it would be possible to calm him down any time soon. “And what he was gonna do…Jesus. I just can’t imagine how Johnny must be feeling right now. And Roy too. I hope Ed Marlowe pays for whatever part he played.” 

Marco frowned. He had been the first to arrive at the hospital even before Roy scooted down the hallway in his wheelchair. The senior paramedic was being released later in the day but by the looks of it, his junior partner still had a long way to go. 

When Marco walked into the room the curtain was drawn across the window blocking out the mid-afternoon sun and a nurse was taking Johnny’s vitals and marking up his chart. Three IV lines ran out of Johnny’s left arm, with one on his right hand, and several bright new bandages were attached to his body. 

By now most of 51 had heard from Dwyer about Johnny’s behavior during the earlier rescue and from Bellingham about the torn flesh on Johnny’s inner elbow. Even Brice had been horrified by the amount of damage he’d seen and it took a hell of a lot to rattle that guy. 

_“It looks worse than it is Marco,” Johnny said but Marco didn’t believe him. His friend looked sick and depleted and Marco’s nerves zinged with the onset stirrings of fear. He didn’t know how to respond so instead he nodded and joked, “That’s always the way it is with you Gage,” and was pleasantly surprised when Johnny laughed._

“I didn’t realize Ed hated Johnny and Roy. It wasn’t their fault he failed the program. Being a paramedic isn’t for everyone,” Mike offered. “I just can’t believe it.” 

Hearing that Ed Marlowe was involved, even peripherally in the kidnapping was astonishing to all the men. Marco didn’t know Ed very well, but he’d worked at 41’s with Roy for years and his reputation, up until the paramedic training, was on solid ground. The implications that Marlowe made about Johnny and Roy and the way he viewed the turn of events that led up to his dismissal were stupefying. 

“Ed told me how he felt. I should have said something at the time but I thought he was just blowing smoke, you know?” Chet pounded the hospital wall, “He basically called John and Roy cowards. He hated them. I should have called him out on it but instead I just walked away.” 

Marco remembered Chet telling him about Ed Marlowe’s issues but it wasn’t anything that concerned him at the time. If Ed was failing the program, then he was obviously lashing out at the two people closest to that decision, Station 51’s training paramedics. 

The way Marco saw it, Ed had two options; either get over it and go through the training again or pack it all in and return to the Engine. Three months later at the annual Fire Department picnic, Marco found out that Ed Marlowe had chosen a different path entirely and decided to quit the department. It was a shock to be sure but nothing he paid much attention to after downing a few beers and watching one hell of a baseball game. 

“You didn’t know,” Cap squeezed Chet’s shoulder. “None of us could have predicted this would happen.” 

“Cap’s right Chet,” Marco tried, “Ed’s issues are his own. He seems screwed up about a lot of stuff. He was obviously speaking from anger. John and Roy have trained a bunch of guys. Not all of them have passed.” 

Chet nodded but remained quiet. Marco knew he was going over it in his head and in some twisted way blaming himself for what happened. Despite the pranks he played on his pigeon, Chet thought of Gage as a friend, and vice versa. Adversaries, sure, but they had each other’s backs. In a weird way, Marco felt that Chet looked up to his friend. Johnny’s tall, dark good looks and engaging smile drew people to him, Chet included. 

Sure, Gage was a bit different, but he was also smart and charming and a damn good fireman. Marco hoped this catastrophe didn’t change any of that for him in the least. He wanted to see both of his friends back and working together at the Station. 

Marco held the door when Roy exited the room. “Thanks for waiting around guys.” He rubbed his hand over his face and sighed. He was getting released in a couple of hours but right now he just looked beat. 

“Coffee Roy?” Cap inquired and when Roy agreed Cap pushed his wheelchair down to the lounge. No one said a word until they were all seated around a table sipping quietly from an eclectic selection of ceramic mugs. It was rough not having Gage with them but the team had done it this way once before, six months previous when the paramedic was bitten by a rattlesnake. 

“How are you handling things?” Cap’s voice was gentle. Considering the situation, a lot of the attention was focused on Gage, but they all knew that Roy was hurting too. 

“I’ll be better when I’m home with my family. I’m worried about Johnny though. I just wish I was able to do more to keep that monster away from him.” 

“Come on, you did great remembering the gun!” Marco interjected quickly. 

After finding out firsthand what Jones had put his friends through Marco was mortified. If he had been in Roy’s place he wondered if he would have had the presence of mind to take action and go for Vince’s spare weapon. 

“Yeah, but you guys didn’t see the way Jones was handling him! And Johnny agreeing to…” Roy’s shudder was clearly visible. “He saved my life in that basement.” 

“Yeah he did. And then you held onto him on the ledge Roy. Your arm was ready to snap but you didn’t let him go even with that bastard pulling at him,” Chet said carefully. “You didn’t drop him.” 

“I know but…” Roy’s face was pale. Marco thought for a second he was going to cry. 

“You have nothing to feel guilty about Roy. You and John were there for each other like partners always should be,” Mike added thoughtfully, “The way I see it you both saved each other’s lives.” 

Roy’s smile was a welcome relief, “Thanks guys. I mean it. Johnny was a little afraid to talk to you today. To be honest so was I.” 

“Well, neither of you should have been afraid.” Cap patted his arm encouragingly. “Because you can always talk to family.” 

******************************************** 

Johnny fiddled with the buttons on his television remote control but refrained from actually turning on the unit. With the morning cartoons finished, there really wasn’t anything on TV that he wanted to watch anyway. He thought briefly about going outside for a walk or maybe just getting into his car and driving somewhere to clear his head but he couldn’t bring himself to move away from the couch. He turned back to the TV and switched it on. After a few minutes of channel surfing, he shut it off again. 

The reporters on the local news had a field day with the man’s violent death and the brutal way he murdered a police officer and nearly killed ‘two county employees but their fascination faded quickly once the sordid headlines ended. Johnny refused to give any interviews, which made the press come up with some rather unseemly ideas on their own, but even if he’d agreed to chat with them Brackett would have almost certainly not allowed it. His patient was much too sick to do anything other than sleep, rest, and slurp down soup and Jello. 

Johnny shivered. At least with Jones dead he didn’t have to worry about testifying anymore. 

_Dead bad guy, no trial…_

He’d been out of the hospital for just under a week and the department and the hospital still considered Johnny too unwell to return to work. He flexed the fingers on his right wrist and bent his left elbow effortlessly. Just who the hell made those decisions anyway? He felt fine. Or at least he felt okay, maybe just a little bit better, not as crappy, so-so, capable, etc. 

Johnny sighed. It was pretty difficult for him to make a case that he was ready to venture outdoors and return to work when he couldn’t even unstick his ass from the living room sofa. 

He stood up and stretched and immediately sat back down when the room started spinning. No matter how many IV antibiotics Brackett pumped or fed into his body he was having one hell of a hard time shaking the damn germs. 

Johnny was hungry but hated the thought of eating and since he couldn’t take the oral meds on an empty stomach he decided not to take them at all this time around so he wouldn’t have to fight off the debilitating nausea and possible diarrhea that might arrive within an hour’s time. It was a dumb move but Johnny didn’t care; at the moment, he felt like bucking the entire god damn system. 

“They’ll never let me back to work at this rate,” he muttered and curled up on the sofa to nap. 

Brackett had explained that despite making great strides, Johnny was by no means completely well and urged him not to ‘push it’ or he’d end up back in the same hospital bed he’d only just vacated. It was annoying to be considered an invalid but he had to admit the doctor had a point. 

Johnny was still on the mend from two nasty infections and wrapping up the last bit of physical therapy from the vascular surgery on his arm and wrist. He pulled back the bandage and stared. 

The vein was completely stitched up and the skin was healing fine. He’d get the stitches out on Thursday with no permanent damage. Johnny was in this, as in everything else where the man was concerned, very, very lucky… 

Lucky that he and his partner survived, lucky that he hadn’t been raped, lucky that he hadn’t fallen to his death on the ledge, lucky that he hadn’t died from the blood infections and so on. But Nancy Markham and Detective Mitchell Febrezzi hadn’t been quite so lucky. They died because Peter Jones was a crazy, unrelenting psychopath who believed that the best way to avenge Ed Marlowe’s messed up life was to fuck John Gage’s brains out. 

_Don’t go there. Just don’t go there…_

He realized he was gripping the remote control and dropped it on the table quickly. Another reason Johnny wasn’t back on the job was because the department shrink still hadn’t cleared him. The doctor said he was suffering from survivor’s guilt and blamed himself for the death and suffering that the man had inflicted. 

_The man..._

He talked to Roy about it a few times and they both admitted to having trouble using Peter Jones as a moniker for the creature who tried to destroy their lives. Saying his name out loud gave the man an identity that made them uncomfortable and as a result they both used ‘the man’ as a reference point about as often as ‘Jones’ when referring to their attacker or thinking about him. It was a bizarre sort of disconnect that Johnny didn’t fully understand but couldn’t bring himself to stop either. 

He settled down and tried to sleep. As quickly as he shut his eyes he opened them again. Someone was knocking at his door. He looked at the time, one o'clock, so he must have slept for at least four hours. Roy stopped by periodically but he always called first and Johnny wasn’t really up to seeing many other visitors. Still, he’d never turn away one of the guys. Or any pre-made dinner dishes. 

“Coming!” he opened the door and his stomach dropped. 

“Johnny...” 

“Ed…” 

“I’m probably the last person you want to see right now.” Marlowe rubbed a hand over his eyes wearily. When Johnny didn’t respond fast enough he added, “Gage?” 

“Yeah, probably…” Johnny stared. He hadn’t seen Ed Marlowe in nearly two years. “Why are you here?” 

Marlowe sighed, “Can I come in? I feel sort of stupid talking out here in the hallway.” 

He started to push his way through the apartment door and Johnny held out his hand to block him. “No.” 

“Come on Gage, you can’t possibly believe what that madman told you!” 

Johnny stepped aside and let the former fireman enter. “What do you want Ed?” He slumped against the wall nearest the door and watched Marlowe take a quick scan of his place. 

“Nice digs. You must be making a good salary as a paramedic. You guys sure are a lot more popular now than when I was training.” Marlowe studied his bookshelf and stared briefly at the medicine bottles stacked neatly on the dining room table. “You read poetry? I never would have guessed it.” His eyes darted back to the books and then to Johnny. 

“Look, I’m feeling really shitty today and if you keep pushing my buttons I’m going to kick your ass out the front door and onto the walk. We’re not friends Ed. You made that clear to me years ago. And if I had any doubts about how you felt about me, Peter Jones set me straight after a few punches. Now, I’ll ask you again, what do you want?” 

“Peter Jones had a lot of problems.” 

“Why would you lie to him like that? If you knew he had problems, then you knew how dangerous he could be. He murdered people Ed! And he nearly killed me and Roy.” Johnny wrapped his arms across his chest, suddenly vulnerable. “You told him we were lovers. Why would you do that?” 

Marlowe licked his lips nervously, “I don’t know why.” 

“You don’t know.” 

“I was in a bad place when I left the department. You guys didn’t stand up for me…” 

“We couldn’t lie to the committee.” 

“Lie? What lie? I worked hard!” 

“Yes, you did. But you didn’t listen. The only advice you took was your own.” 

Marlowe advanced on him quickly but Johnny stood his ground. This was one fight he wasn’t backing away from. “I was a medic in Vietnam. I knew what had to be done. If you’d given me more time to get settled it might have worked out.” 

“We gave you the same time that we gave to everyone else. You could have reapplied but instead you surrendered and left the department. You made a mess out of your own life. You didn’t need me and Roy to do that for you.” Johnny paced, “You told Jones that we ruined you. That Roy was influenced by how good I was in the sack and we decided to bounce you out of the program because I was jealous of you or some other crazy shit. We may have had our disagreements but I never hated you Ed. But that man,” He stopped moving and remembered, “He sure hated us.” 

Marlowe said quietly, “I wanna know what happened.” 

Johnny flinched. “Why, so you can jerk off thinking about it later? I’m not discussing anything with you.” 

“Those bruises you have all over your face…and those bandages…he did that, right?” 

Johnny subconsciously tried to cover himself. 

_You Fireman, I want you._

“Did he beat you up Johnny?” Marlowe moved closer. “What else did he do?” 

“Ed…” 

_I'll give you an easy choice. Let me enjoy you for a while and in return I’ll let Desoto live…_

“What else?” 

“Get the hell out of my home, now!” 

“I didn’t ask him to harm you damn it! I know that's what you've been telling people!” Marlowe shouted, “You’re looking at me like this was my fault. But it's not. I didn’t tell him to go after you and Desoto. It’s wasn't my job to control him!” He gestured to the bandages on Johnny’s arm. 

"Don't..." 

“What the hell happened there! You have to tell me!” 

_Calm down, breathe, don’t make me hurt you._

“Fuck you Ed.” 

“Goddamn it, tell me Gage!” 

“Do you really wanna know? Do you?” Johnny pointed to his arm. “This is where your huge buddy ripped the IV lines out of my arm before he beat the crap out of me and dragged me out through the hospital window.” He pointed to his neck. “And this is where he chowed down on me like some rabid vampire.” Marlowe eyes drilled into his head, hanging on his every word. “He wanted to kill Roy. But he gave me a chance to save him. He told me that he'd let Roy live if I let him do whatever the hell he wanted to me.” He lowered his voice, “And he wanted to do a lot to me Ed.” 

“Jesus Gage,” Marlowe looked stunned. “I didn’t…” 

Johnny held up his wrist. “This is where he chained me to the wall and I pulled so hard to get loose that Vince’s handcuffs cut my wrist down to the bone. This is where he whacked me with the gun and gave me a concussion.” He lifted his shirt, “And here, right here on my belly, this one is self-explanatory. I think if you look very closely, you can still see the outline of that crazy bastard’s fist!” 

Marlowe turned away, “I had no idea.” 

“He was strangling Roy. His hands were on my partner’s throat squeezing the life out of him. He could have killed him Ed. Roy was your friend. You worked with him at 41’s.” 

Marlowe sat on the sofa and put his head in his hands. His chest heaved. “Stop it Johnny please. Oh my god! It wasn’t my fault.” 

“You knew what he was like. You had to suspect that maybe he’d go after us,” Johnny flopped down next to Marlowe and lay his arm over his eyes. 

“You can’t blame me Gage! Oh Jesus." 

“I don't blame anyone but Peter Jones.” Even saying the name out loud sickened him. Johnny sighed, “Maybe you lied to him to screw us over because you were angry. Or maybe it made you feel better to vent to someone who you knew would take your side. Or maybe you just told Jones a whacked-out version of events because you really believed they were true. It doesn’t matter to me anymore because I’m done with you Ed.” 

“You’re done with me!” Marlowe’s voice held contempt. “You ruined my life Gage! You and Desoto both. I have nothing left. Nothing! You think that because I sounded off to some guy I knew and he was so mortified that he took it upon himself to dole out punishment that it's my fault? That it was something I encouraged? That's crazy Gage. Even for you. I never wanted that!” 

Johnny sat up and stared. 

“I never told him to hurt you. I never told him to go after you!” 

“Maybe you didn’t tell him specifically but you lit the fuse under him. And you sure as hell didn’t mind what he did to us, did you Ed? You’re sitting here now, upset and scared because looking at me makes it all real. It’s possible you didn’t know how violent and twisted Jones was but the thought of that monster knocking me around, breaking my bones and getting me off my high horse sure made you happy.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“It is true. Now leave me the hell alone.” 

"Gage, I'm so sorry…" 

“I really don’t want to hear it. And I don’t want any apologies.” 

“Please!” 

Johnny spent days during his recovery rehearsing what he’d say to Ed Marlowe if he ever crossed paths with him again. He wanted just one chance to face the man whose misplaced anger and arrogance turned the devil loose upon him and his partner. He considered that the shouting and accusations in his imagination might have sounded exactly like what had just transpired between them with a few major exceptions. 

The outcome of their real battle didn’t leave Johnny feeling inspired. It wasn’t cathartic and it hadn’t liberated him in any way. The shouting hadn’t brought him peace or justice. And it didn’t help him deal with his demons. Instead it just made him feel sad. 

He wanted to hate Ed Marlowe and to blame him for what transpired but he couldn’t. Marlowe was a victim too. Not of the man, but of himself. He believed in his own publicity, he accepted no one’s guidance, and he alienated himself from everyone and everything around him that had once been important in his life. He'd made a ton of mistakes but the raggedy man sitting hunched over on Johnny’s sofa wasn’t evil. 

Ed Marlowe was a pathetic soul, a fallen man, a fireman, and a brother. He deserved a chance at redemption and a chance to prove that he was worthy, even if that worth did not include becoming a paramedic. 

“I’ll leave Johnny,” Marlowe stood up stiffly and moved toward the door. 

“Ed wait,” Johnny sighed. Either he was the biggest push-over in the history of forever or he was finally starting to get his mind back on track. “I have to take a pill for this…” he gestured to his neck, “and for this,” he pointed to his arm, “so I’m gonna need to eat something." 

Johnny stood up and stretched until his back cracked, “Are you as hungry as I am?”

“What?” 

Marlowe stared at him like he’d just grown a second head and Johnny felt something cold and dark slowly start to chip away inside him. The look of morbid curiosity on Ed’s face was a hell of a lot closer to the way Johnny was accustomed to being looked at compared to all the ‘poor Johnny’ expressions he’d been receiving from everybody for the past month. Understanding was great and he appreciated their concern, but Johnny didn’t want sympathy. He just wanted to be himself again. 

“I asked if you were hungry Ed.” 

Marlowe nodded slowly and twisted his mouth into a half-grin that transformed his hang-dog features into something nearly pleasant, “Yeah, sure, I’m starving…" 

“Well, good deal,” Johnny smiled and it felt so damn good that he thought he might start doing it again more often. “The faster we get the oven heated up the quicker we'll be eating Joanne Desoto’s lasagna. You can set the table. The silverware is in the side drawer.” He walked toward the kitchen with a bounce in his step. 

After a few seconds, Ed Marlowe followed. 

********************************************* 

Roy checked the buttons on his uniform shirt and walked into the station with a smile on his face. He inhaled the smell of fresh coffee and his smile grew even wider. 

_This is where I left off._

It felt good to be back to work even if Johnny hadn’t been cleared to come back with him. Getting Dwyer as a partner meant that at least he didn’t have to worry about dealing with Brice but the idea was still unsettling. 

Dwyer had been there that day in the basement taking his pulse, examining his bruises and seeing Johnny zoned out and at his worst. Then again, Brice had been there on the ledge and that hadn’t exactly been a high point either. 

Roy frowned. Just thinking about his partner even briefly was enough to sink his smile. 

Johnny wasn’t happy to still be on the sick list. The extra time off set him apart from Roy- deficient, disturbed, damaged goods – and Roy knew that distinction would make it even harder for Johnny to return to work. His partner always labored over the smallest twist in any situation and the extra days were gonna be one hell of a major detail for him to worry about. 

He walked into the kitchen, poured himself a cup of coffee and took a sip. Just as he suspected; it was perfect. 

“Hey Roy,” Chet patted him on the back with a grin. “It’s good to have you back man.” 

Choruses of ‘Roy!’ and ‘It’s good to see you!’ echoed all throughout the station as both A shift and the returning C shift welcomed his return to work. When Roy’s back was thumped for the sixth or seventh time it was all starting to get a bit overwhelming but it sure felt nice to be missed. 

He smiled at his friends and sat down at the table. He’d seen the guys every now and then over the past month – he and Joanne had dinner with Cap and his wife just three days ago – but nothing in the world compared to actually being here together with his team, in uniform, at the fire station waiting to rocket out the door to another rescue. He sipped his coffee and peeked out the doorway to where the shiny red Squad beckoned. Roy’s heart thumped with a mixture of fear and excitement. 

He fought back a wave of anxiety. Everything was going to be just fine. Jones was dead and Roy was ready to get back into the game. He sipped his coffee again. The cup in his hand wasn’t shaking so at least he was steady. But the true test of his recovery would come along soon enough when the klaxon sounded – a tough rescue and a patient in need of his help. Roy sighed. 

He had it covered. 

“Hey Roy, how’s Johnny?” Dwyer sat next to him with a smile and stuffed an iced bear claw into his mouth. The sugary topping flopped down his uniform and he cursed silently and scraped it into his palm and onto the table. 

“He’s…good,” Roy managed but it was too late. Something in his voice must have given him away because within seconds everyone was inquiring after his partner. 

“Look, Johnny’s okay. He’s getting edgy but that’s to be expected. He wants to come back to work but the doctors haven’t cleared him yet. He’s still feeling under the weather.” 

The men all exchanged silent glances. What happened to Johnny wasn’t a secret; his partner made sure of that himself by explaining everything in detail while he was still in the hospital. 

Johnny despised secrets and untruths. He felt it was better to have everything out in the open so his friends would have time to digest the facts at their own pace before he returned to work and Roy had agreed with his decision. 

_“We work with a great bunch of guys. They’ll understand when we tell them. They won’t judge us Johnny.”_

_“I know that Roy. I know…”_

Johnny was as pale as the bedsheets and he’d fretted quite a bit beforehand, but when the gang arrived he followed Roy’s lead and did a great job of explaining even though his voice stuttered quite a bit at times. 

When Johnny opened the floor to questions there was absolute silence for a few seconds before everyone started chiming in at once, offering words of friendship and encouragement. 

Roy hoped then that his friend might be released soon from the hospital but instead of getting better Johnny just kept on getting worse. Brackett was having a hard time keeping the dueling infections in his body under control and the eclectic process of finding the proper cocktail of antibiotics to best treat his partner was having a debilitating effect on Johnny’s psyche. 

After three straight days of vomiting and sleeping and generally looking like he had the plague Johnny could barely lift his head and it frightened Roy to imagine that after everything he had been through, even in death Jones might turn out to be the victor. 

But then seemingly overnight, the drugs kicked in and Johnny’s health improved. Roy stopped by to see his friend and Johnny was sitting up in bed, and chatting up a pretty nurse. They talked for a bit and although he was still subdued, Roy could tell that his partner was definitely on the mend. Four days later Johnny was released with a bag full of medicine, and now, after a nearly two-week recuperation, he’d soon be coming back to work as a paramedic. 

“I still can’t believe what happened to you guys. And Ed Marlowe, what the hell was he thinking man?” Chet was shaking his head. “I knew he hated Johnny. I just didn’t think he hated him that much.” 

“Ed didn’t have anything to do with it Chet. Jones acted on his own.” Roy sighed. 

“Come on Roy. Everyone knows Johnny and Ed never got along. And Ed used his goon to get revenge.” 

“Ed was cleared by Lieutenant Crockett Chet,” Roy advised, trying to defend Marlowe the best he could but it wasn’t easy. Thanks to his connection to Peter Jones, Ed Marlowe was fast becoming a pariah to the department he abandoned years ago. 

“Yeah, right. There’s just no proof because that bastard died,” Chet responded angrily. 

Cap intervened, “Cool it Kelly. Marlowe is guilty of being an arrogant ass but that’s about all. I spoke to the Lieutenant myself. Ed blabbed a bunch of crap to someone with mental issues so he’s also a stupid twit but whether or not he dislikes Gage doesn’t figure in here.” 

“Come on Cap. I understand what you’re saying but I spoke to the guy while he was training. He definitely blamed John and Roy for getting him canned.” 

If anyone had asked Roy earlier how Johnny felt about Ed Marlowe and vice versa, Roy would have agreed with Chet and said that they loathed each other. But that was before Roy walked in on his sleepy, bed-headed partner drinking coffee and scrambling eggs while Ed Marlowe slept soundly under a cozy old blanket on Johnny’s couch and suddenly nothing made sense anymore. 

He picked up a Danish and put it back on the plate. 

“Yeah,” Marco agreed, “Johnny’s not fond of Ed either.” 

Roy exhaled slowly. “Johnny’s okay with Ed, Marco. At least I think he is. He doesn’t blame him for what happened so maybe we shouldn’t either.” 

In truth, Roy had been shocked to see Marlowe in Johnny’s apartment and upset that his partner hadn’t called in advance to let him know that the failed paramedic who screwed them over by lying to Peter Jones was camping out on his living room sofa. 

Johnny didn’t offer much in the way of explanations either. 

_Ed came to see me yesterday and we talked._

He whispered the words so he didn’t wake Marlowe up and cracked another couple of eggs in the pan. Then he shrugged his slender shoulders as if that explained everything and offered Roy a hot cup of coffee. When Roy declined, Johnny hadn’t asked him to stay. 

He called Johnny a couple days later to see how he was doing and his friend sounded genuinely happy to hear his voice. Although they talked for nearly twenty minutes Johnny didn’t mention Ed Marlowe once. For all Roy knew the former trainee was probably now his best friend’s roommate. 

He considered asking Johnny over to dinner then but at the last minute he pulled the invitation and that error in judgement had bugged Roy for days. Johnny hadn’t done anything to earn his wrath and he didn’t mean to offend. Johnny was just being Johnny and if his partner was letting Marlowe spend the night on his sofa then he must have had a very good reason. It bothered Roy that he hadn’t felt comfortable enough speaking with his friend to ask him exactly what that reason might be. 

He grabbed the Danish again, bit it in half and washed it down with a long sip of coffee. Maybe he’d call Johnny later when he had a break in the day and check up on him. He needed to make things right before his friend returned to work. 

“Well, whether or not he blames Ed doesn’t matter to me or anyone else in the department. I know for a fact how he felt about you guys. He told me to my face.” Chet shook his head, “If I ever run into him again I’ll give him a piece of my mind.” 

“Careful, Chet. You don’t have a lot of that to spare,” Marco joked and even Chet joined in the laughter. 

“Yeah, laugh it up buddy. You better watch your back. The Phantom’s looking for a fill-in pigeon for Gage." 

Roy laughed. The friendly bickering back and forth between his friends was comforting. 

“I can’t believe how much I missed this,” He mused out loud and then almost regretted speaking when all eyes turned in his direction. 

Cap patted him on the back gently, “It sure is great to have you here Roy. No offense Dwyer, but I’m really looking forward to having my junior paramedic return as quickly as possible.” 

Dwyer smiled, “I think we’d all like to see that Cap.” 

Just then the tones sounded and Roy jumped out of his seat. 

_Station 51, unknown type rescue, corner of Magnolia and Fremont. Time out 8:21._

“Time to go Roy.” Cap said encouragingly but Roy didn’t need a push. 

He shuttered his fears and doubts away for later when he had time to examine them and let a rush of excitement rip through him. "I got this", Roy murmured quietly and raced from the kitchen toward the Squad. 

Judging by Dwyer's understanding smile he hadn't been quiet enough. “Driving Roy?” Dwyer asked, grinning. 

“You bet I am,” Roy slid into the driver’s seat with a practiced ease. At this moment, in Los Angeles, someone was counting on him to make the right decision and help them survive what might turn out to be the roughest day of their life. He grabbed the address slip from Captain Stanley and started the engine. 

It was now or never time. 

The sky was clear, the adrenaline was pounding in his veins and the Engine was barreling down the street behind him. So far so good. The day was nearly perfect. 

The only thing missing was Johnny. 

******************************************** 

Johnny sat in his Range Rover with his hands on the steering wheel staring at the Squad parked and sitting all alone in Station 51. He was a paramedic and a fireman. 

His life was here. 

It had been a little under five weeks since he’d last parked his car in the back lot and now it seemed strange to him, almost alien, and the feeling that he might not belong here anymore doing the job that he loved shook him to the core. 

Roy had started back eight days ago but the hospital wanted to make sure that Johnny was “ready”. He didn’t know whether he should be concerned that they thought he was more fragile than Roy or thankful that his situation actually merited a deeper form of understanding. 

He sighed. Even now, sitting in his uniform, and waiting for Roy’s car to arrive, Johnny felt apprehensive. 

Talking to the guys after his surgery was easier than he thought it would be probably because he didn’t have to go through alone. Roy was right there by his side throughout his entire ordeal. 

Johnny said, “Please don’t ask us any questions until we’re finished, okay? I know it’s not gonna be an easy story for you guys to hear but believe me it’s gonna be even harder for us to tell it,” He looked at his partner and Roy nodded in agreement. 

Engine 51 listened. 

Roy talked about the connection between Ed Marlowe and Peter Jones and how Ed saving Jones life in Vietnam set him on a downward spiral of revenge. He explained how Jones had been responsible for the accident that claimed Nancy Markham’s life and another victim and injured Johnny. He explained how Jones stalked them for the entire shift, watching them work and later breaking the bio-phone so they’d be unable to contact Rampart before luring them into a trap by staging a fake emergency call and shooting Vince and hiding his motorcycle. Throughout the encounter Roy’s voice shook only once; when he relived waking up after being shot and seeing Johnny chained to the wall with Peter Jones sadistically hurting him. 

For his part Johnny explained how Ed Marlowe convinced Peter Jones that he and Roy were romantically involved and it was this imaginary relationship that was the force behind him getting canned from the paramedic program. His fingers clenched the bed sheets and he had to stop once or twice for a drink of water, but Johnny didn’t stray far off course. He told the guys how Jones believed Ed Marlowe’s lies. How he became so enraged at the thought of Ed failing the paramedics that he decided to punish them both for Marlowe’s mistakes. He described waking up chained to the wall with barely enough room to move and how Jones had tormented him when he asked about Roy. He described how terrified he was that Roy was going to die when Jones started choking him. And he whispered as best he could the terms that Jones required in return for sparing Roy’s life and how he had agreed to them without hesitation. And finally, he told them about how Roy had remembered Vince’s gun, and found a way to get it, and how Johnny had used that gun to shoot the man and save their lives. 

He and Roy shared the floor on the latest chapter, discussing how Peter Jones broke out of police custody by killing the police officer guarding him and then attacking Johnny in his hospital room before the both of them toppled out onto the ledge. The crew saw firsthand how that mess ended up with Jones lying dead on the pavement. 

It felt strange for him to share his nightmare with so many people, even these people, his family really, who meant more to Johnny than anyone else in the entire world. 

Their reactions were what he expected; shock, anger and sorrow, and his fight to control his emotional response to Cap’s ‘We’re glad you’re both still with us John,’ wasn’t nearly as successful as he’d liked. 

He looked out the window and took a deep breath. It was just past seven thirty. He’d been waiting here for nearly twenty minutes. Dwyer and Fitzpatrick were inside but Johnny didn’t want to see them. He was waiting for Roy. He needed to talk to his partner. 

Johnny felt his stomach twist when he finally saw the paramedic's small car pull into the parking lot. Although they’d spoken on the phone a bunch of times he hadn’t seen his friend since the day Roy stopped by his apartment to find Johnny preparing breakfast for the man partially responsible for putting them through the most terrifying ordeal of their lives. 

A lot of what Ed Marlowe said to him in his own defense was crap and Johnny knew it. Peter Jones gave Marlowe the validation he needed at a time when he was at his lowest. They weren’t friends, at least Marlowe didn’t see them that way, and somehow that only made it worse. Johnny might have been able to understand Marlowe confiding in someone he trusted, but that wasn’t the case here. Marlowe didn’t trust Jones. He didn’t even like him. He knew what the man was capable of and yet he told his twisted version of the truth to a guy he knew was off his rocker. And that man used the information to formulate his own twisted plan of torture, rape and murder… 

Johnny shuddered. Jones was dead and gone and dwelling on what he did to them didn’t matter anymore because the bastard wasn’t coming back this time. His hands gripped the steering wheel nervously and he sighed. 

Johnny moved out of his car and waved. “Hey Roy!” 

“Johnny!” Roy stared at him for a second and then smiled. “First day back huh?” 

“Yeah,” Johnny ran his hand through his hair. "Brackett finally signed my release papers." 

“He told me and Dwyer last shift he was putting you back in action. How does it feel?” Roy looked him over carefully from top to bottom and Johnny’s fear disappeared, replaced by a nervousness he didn’t fully understand. He’d never felt this way around his partner before. 

“Good, I’m good, Roy.” He couldn’t read Roy at the moment and that alarmed him. "I know I should have called you the other day to warn you about Ed but everything happened so fast. He came over and we ate dinner. I slept great for the first time in weeks and I still woke up exhausted. I just didn't think about calling you. Sorry." 

It wasn't a lie. After talking to Marlowe and eating too much lasagna he took all his meds and slept like a rock. Ed snuck out the door after breakfast while Johnny was taking his morning shower leaving a two-word note tacked under a smiley face magnet on his refrigerator. 

_Thank you._

Johnny stared at that note for a very long time. 

“Yeah, well. I’m still waiting for an explanation on that partner. When you’re ready to tell me why you and Ed Marlowe have suddenly buddied up I’m ready to listen.” 

Johnny leaned back against the Rover and sighed. Roy sure wasn’t going to make things easy. “We haven’t buddied up and I haven’t seen him since that morning. But if he wants to see me I’m open to it.” 

“Open to it? That bastard got you beaten up, torn apart and almost raped by a lunatic and the both of us nearly killed twice over!” Roy’s words were vicious and Johnny’s expression must have showed dismay because when Roy spoke again, the angry tone was missing. “I’m sorry Johnny, I just don’t get it. It’s like you’re moving in circles around me and I can’t get inside that three-ring circus of yours.” 

"Ed stopped by my place. I didn't invite him. I tried to kick him out but then I don't know what happened. We had a fight and I invited him to dinner. I heated up Joanne's lasagna..." 

"Joanne's lasagna," Roy repeated. 

"I’m going to do what I can for Ed and I hope you don’t have a problem with it.” Johnny rubbed his forehead miserably. “I don’t want you getting mad at me over this.” 

Suddenly returning to work didn't seem like a very good idea. Johnny hated being on edge around his friend and starting out on the wrong foot, after being away from his job for so long, didn’t bode well for the shift. 

If he was ever going to get through the next twenty-four hours, he needed his partner beside him. The last few weeks of his life had totally sucked but Roy had been his rock. When he needed to shout, he shouted at Roy, and when he needed someone to tell him to get the hell over himself, Roy helped him out in that area too. He couldn’t have asked for a better friend. 

When Johnny woke up after surgery Roy was gripping his hand and telling him everything was going to be fine but for the first time in their partnership Johnny had his doubts. He was confused at first but then things mellowed out. He knew that the man was dead. And he remembered everything that the man had done to him. He stared at his wrapped arm and wrist and noted the numerous IV’s attached to his body and felt sick and angry and alone. Roy smiled at him softly and said, “I promise Junior” and Johnny was able to fall back asleep but the next morning, the anger was still with him. 

The same type of rage and helplessness he was feeling had existed inside of him once before as a small child living on the reservation, learning the meaning of words like ‘half-breed’ and dealing with horrors no child should ever have to face but Johnny had smothered his shame and fury a long time ago when he first joined the fire department. His past was so far removed from where he was in life that he barely gave it a second thought past the few dark evenings where it surfaced randomly in his dreams, and like pulling off a Band-Aid, hurt him anew. 

“You don’t owe me any explanations Johnny.” 

“Yeah, I do.” Johnny bit the inside of his mouth. “I’m just not sure how to go about explaining stuff is all.” 

“Well, I need to apologize to you anyway.” Roy stumbled around in place and looked away. He kicked his shoe against the pavement, scuffing it. “I should have had you over for dinner.” 

“What the heck are you talking about?” Johnny didn’t remember his friend asking him to dinner or even hinting at it in the last week. Sometimes he was slow to pick up on social cues but he’d never pass up an opportunity to devour one of Joanne’s home cooked meals or spend some time with Roy’s kids. 

“Last week when I called I was going to invite you to dinner. But then when you didn’t explain to me about Ed being at your place it annoyed me for some reason and I didn’t invite you.” Roy shoved his hands in his pockets and sat back alongside Johnny on the Rover. “It was wrong of me and I’m sorry.” 

“That’s okay Pally,” Johnny said mildly. Knowing Roy snubbed him hurt a bit but he understood. Sort of anyway. “Dinner would have been great but you don’t have to pay me back.” He sighed, “You saved my life on that ledge.” 

“Yeah, well, you saved mine first when you agreed to…” Roy’s voice trailed away. His face looked stricken. “Johnny…” 

“I know what I agreed to do Roy. And I’d do it again. We’ve been through this.” Johnny wrapped his arms across his chest defensively. He wasn’t bothered by the deal he made to save his friend’s life. And he wasn’t lying when he said he would agree to it again in a heartbeat. But even now, when he allowed the memories of his time with Jones to surface, the horror of that day consumed him, and today, on his first day back in over a month, he planned to keep that particular nightmare securely under wraps. 

“Do you really believe Marlowe had nothing to do with what happened to us?” 

Johnny sighed. “I don’t think he did Roy. I know he hated us after what happened, me especially, but last week he just seemed wasted. It’s hard to put into words. Like he was trying to be the same arrogant bastard he was when we were training him but his head just wasn’t in it. When Ed looked at me and saw firsthand what Jones did he was disturbed. I could tell by his face. He just caved like a paper bag.” 

Roy nodded slowly, “Ed’s not very popular with anyone right now.” 

“No, he isn’t.” Johnny waited for Roy to continue. He knew his friend well enough to know that he wasn’t finished by a long shot. 

“And the reason he’s not popular is not your fault or mine. It’s Ed’s fault.” 

Johnny bristled, “I know that Roy.” 

“I want to make sure that you do.” 

Roy’s eyes were on him, calm and unyielding and Johnny recalled just how comforting it was to collapse against his partner on the ledge right when he felt on the verge of losing himself completely. He remembered the steady warmth of Roy’s body against his, and Roy’s strong fingers pressing into the wound on his arm, forcing the bleeding to stop through the sheer strength of his will and Johnny had been confident that no matter how much pain he’d been in Roy would somehow find a way to make him better. 

“I don’t know what I would have done without you.” 

“Same here,” Roy agreed. 

“Well, all except for you not having me over for that dinner…but you can make it up to me tomorrow night.” Johnny teased. 

Roy’s expression was warm, “I’ll call Joanne later and let her know to make all your favorites.” 

“Yeah, well don't let her go to too much trouble now." Johnny sighed and considered. “I wish Ed Marlowe had someone like you in his corner.” 

“How do you know that he didn’t?” 

“I just know Roy. I know it for a fact. Because if Ed had someone like you on his side, he would never have given up on the Fire Department. Heck, he’d probably have done the training over and be a paramedic today.” 

Roy stared at him hard, measuring his words, confusion then understanding settling across his features, “You’re giving me way too much credit Johnny.” 

“No, I’m not. Ed said we destroyed his life...and in a way, he was right.” Johnny held up his hand, “Before you go off on me, just hear me out, okay?” When Roy nodded again he continued, “We were on the up and up with Ed. We did our best. He didn’t listen. But after he was tossed out of the paramedics I never gave him a single thought. Not one. I was happy he was gone. He kept messing up and I was convinced he was going to get someone killed. I never imagined how it affected him or that he might be depressed. I didn’t care. He was one of us, a fireman who wanted to be a paramedic, and we let him down. A lot of people failed the program. But not in the same spectacular fashion that Ed did.” 

Roy sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I'll admit I didn’t think about him either but that doesn’t make it our fault.” 

“No, it doesn’t. Ed failed himself, I know that Roy, but then we failed Ed.” Johnny didn’t wait for Roy to respond. “I think I needed to forgive him.” Johnny shrugged. “He was the villain in my head for so long. And he’s not anymore. He’s just a guy who messed up, fell on hard times and talked out of his ass. The only villain in this nightmare for me is Peter Jones.” 

“Maybe,” Roy nodded, “But I still see Ed as the catalyst. It’s gonna be hard for me to change that opinion.” He sighed, “But if you can do it, then I guess I can try too, all right?” 

Johnny smiled, “Yeah.” He never doubted that Roy would understand. He felt his partner’s eyes upon him, studying him, trying to figure something out. “What’s wrong?” 

Roy bit his bottom lip and Johnny knew he was unsure how to proceed. “Do you still think about it?” 

“I try not to…” Johnny realized he was stroking the bandage on his arm and pulled his hand away quickly. “The memories don’t control me the way they did after it all went down, but they still come and go. I’ve spoken to the department shrink and he cleared me to go back to work Roy. You don’t need to worry about me.” 

“I’m a natural worrier,” Roy looked exhausted and the day had only started. “When I think about how close we both came to dying and what you agreed to do for me...” He rubbed his eyes tiredly, “When we were on that ledge and I saw that blood all over your feet it scared the hell out of me. I know it sounds stupid because Jones did a lot of bad crap to you but that blood and the way you were trying to keep your feet warm really bugged me.” He squeezed Johnny’s shoulder. “I hated seeing you so vulnerable. And it worries me that maybe I still see you that way.” 

Johnny looked away from the station out to the 405 Freeway and beyond. All his plans to keep the monsters at bay on his first day back were disintegrating right before his eyes. Roy was forcing him to touch a live wire. 

“What do you want me to say?" Johnny paced before returning to sit on his car. "When Jones ripped those IV lines out of me I thought for sure I was gonna die. And his fingernails, digging into my flesh, making me bleed even more…it was unbearable. I was stepping in puddles of my own blood Roy!” He swallowed hard and glared at his partner. “If I looked vulnerable to you then it's because I was vulnerable!” 

“And now?” 

“And now…I’m not.” 

“You told me on the ledge that you were happy Jones was dead.” 

“Yeah,” Johnny acknowledged, “But I was wrong. I hated him more than I’ve ever despised anyone or anything before in my life but that loathing didn’t help me. I wish he was alive right now so he would have to pay for what he did to us. I’m not afraid of him anymore. Maybe that’s just easy for me to say because he’s dead. Or maybe I feel stronger when you’re around. Maybe I’m just getting better. I don’t know. And I don’t care.” 

“Neither do I,” Roy smiled. “What we went through isn’t something you just bounce back from. Especially what happened to you.” 

Johnny watched Chet pull into the lot and Marco and Cap follow soon behind him. He smiled and waved and they smiled back before quietly walking into the station. Johnny knew they were giving him and Roy some time to talk and he really appreciated the gesture but more than anything else, Johnny wanted to walk inside Station 51, drink a hot cup of coffee, get down to work, and enjoy the hell out of his friends. 

When he’d been in the basement, the realization that he’d never see the guys again had been harder to take than any blow Jones inflicted upon him. Johnny was lucky, once again very, very lucky, and he was determined to make the most out of the amazing chance he’d been given. 

“While I was sitting in my car waiting for you this morning I was wondering if I could still do this job.” 

Roy’s face showed worry and concern but there was confidence there too and it was that confidence that drove Johnny forward. 

“There’s a part of me that can’t wait to get back out there and do what I was trained to do. What I was meant to do. And then there’s another part of me that’s afraid of what might happen when the next call comes in.” 

Roy sighed, “I know the feeling.” 

“Jones used who we are against us Roy. He didn’t have to stalk us for very long to get our number. He knew we’d go into a darkened building, without backup and we wouldn’t come out without a victim no matter how unsettled we were. When we ran into that room we didn’t know we’d find Vince inside. That bastard knew enough about us to know that we wouldn’t hesitate.” Johnny considered his words, “I’d like to think that says more about us than it does about him.” 

“It definitely does,” Roy agreed. “I never considered something like this could happen. But I refuse to let it change the way I do my job.” 

Johnny wished he felt as confident. Roy had beaten him back by over a week so he had a bit of time to get used to the grind again, the constant calls and cries for help, but Johnny still had his misgivings. “How do I stop seeing Jones behind every shadow?” 

“I’m not going to lie to you, my first call out I was nervous. I had my doubts. But it’s been over a week now for me and I feel almost good again.” 

Johnny didn’t respond immediately. He thought about Jones and the basement and how desperate and dirty he felt and then later the hospital ledge with all its accompanying pain and misery and a cold chill scraped across his bones. Johnny wasn’t completely well, not by a long shot but he wanted to be well and maybe that was the first step. He didn’t think he’d ever be the same person he was before Peter Jones entered his life, and he had a feeling that Roy felt the same way, but maybe, just maybe that was okay too. 

“If you want one of your welcome back donuts you better get in here soon Gage. Chet’s already working on his second! And he’s going for the jelly!” Captain Stanley’s voice carried from the back door and Johnny waved at him happily. 

“We’ll be there in a minute Cap!” 

Roy moved closer. “I meant every word of what I said to you in that basement Johnny. I’m gonna help you along every step of the way. Ed may not have had me in his corner but you have me in yours." 

It was hard to imagine being completely fine again but Johnny trusted his friend. Roy said he’d help him and Johnny knew he’d do whatever he could to make things right. He wished he could expel the remaining misery clouding his brain and let all the positive back inside. His friend sounded hopeful so maybe there was a good chance after all. 

He’d never been very good at giving up anyway. 

Johnny took a deep breath and held on to Roy’s optimism like a lifeline. 

The End. 


End file.
